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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148223">Lovely, Dark, and Deep</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenWings/pseuds/FrozenWings'>FrozenWings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Untitled Young Cassandra Series [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Broken Bones, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, LITTLE CASS, POV Original Character, Rabies, parenting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:41:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,074</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26148223</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenWings/pseuds/FrozenWings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cap is tasked with riding out on patrol the day after a summer storm, he naturally allows Cassandra to come along. After all, he's just taking note of downed trees and the like. Nothing dangerous or distracting; just dull predictability.</p><p>Unfortunately, when Cass is around, 'dull predictability' tends to vacate the premises.</p><p>Title taken from Robert Frost’s <i>Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain of Corona's Guard &amp; Cassandra (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Untitled Young Cassandra Series [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817698</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written August 2020.</p><p>Welcome to the next installment of the 'Untitled Young Cassandra Series!' I know I say this a lot, but this one really is one of my absolute favorites and I'm super excited to share it (and kinda nervous too, knowing where it goes). I figure Cass to be about five in this story.</p><p>I was in a bit of a writing rut when I started this, so please forgive the first chapter or two if they're slow or meandering or filled with too many 'I know it's kinda filler but I liked it and think it's cute' moments. The story, I feel, gets better as it goes on, so I hope you'll stick around for the whole thing. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wavy rivulets of rainwater, left over from the night before, covered the windowpane looking out of Cap’s apartment, warping and distorting the view of the world outside, a view which the room’s youngest occupant was wholly unconcerned with. Instead, Cass’s attention was fixed on the length of cord in her father’s hands as he looped and tugged until- </p><p>“There!” Cap said, handing the cord over for his daughter to finger and examine. “That’s how you tie a knot that’s guaranteed to hold no matter what. Why don’t you give it a try?”</p><p> “Yeah!” Cass nodded eagerly, immediately setting to work trying to copy her father’s movements with the cord.</p><p> Cap sat back in his chair, grinning at the way her face was twisted in concentration and effort, tongue poking out the slightest bit from between her lips. <i>That should keep her busy for-</i></p><p> “Like this?” </p><p>Cap blinked down at Cass, holding the cord out to him for inspection. <i>She can't be serious,</i> he thought, taking the cord with disbelieving hands. One large lumpy knot was now sitting alongside his much neater one. Experimentally, he tugged and, much to his surprise, saw that it somehow held despite its clumsy appearance. </p><p>Cap shook his head slowly, amazed. Even though he knew Cass was a fast learner, she never ceased to surprise him with just <i>how</i> fast. “Yeah, yeah just like that,” he said, and Cass fairly glowed with pleasure at the praise. “Why don’t you try tying a few more? Fill up the rope for practice and see if you can make it any neater?” </p><p>“Okay,” she chirped, taking it back and settling down on the floor at his feet just as a knock sounded from the door.</p><p>“Mornin’, Lieutenant,” Captain Williams greeted him, stepping into the apartment with the familiarity of a nieghbor rather than the formality of a commander the second Cap opened the door and stepped aside to admit his instantly recognizable visitor. “And good morning to you, Miss Cassandra.”</p><p> Miss Cassandra kept her attention fixed on knot number two, not glancing up as she uttered a quick “Good Morning” when Cap cleared his throat meaningfully (he could let the lack of ‘sir’ slip just this once). </p><p>“Is there a problem, sir?” Cap asked, voice clipped and purposeful. Williams cocked an eyebrow teasingly at his second in command, taking a seat in Cap’s recently-abandoned chair to peer down at what had so firmly ensared Cass’s attention. </p><p>“Relax, Cap,” Williams said casually, still studying Cass’s hands working the rope. “It’s nothing too urgent.” Then, introducing a subject-changing non sequitur, “Knot tying?” He glanced up at Cap, eyes glinting. "While I admit it can be a useful skill, it's not one I see guardsmen practice much, and never such a fancy, complicated thing. Dare I ask?” </p><p>Cap rubbed at his eyes, keeping his ramrod straight posture and fighting the urge to lean unprofessionally against the wall. “Long night, sir.” </p><p>The night before it had rained. No, not rained; it had poured a deluge of legendary proportions. An armada of droplets hailing from a squall blown in from sea had ceaselessly bombarded the glass panes and stone walls, creating a racket that could not be ignored or slept through, with a howling wind playing the role of an ally equally determined to cause some damage. Far from being scared by the storm, Cass had been fascinated and insisted on sitting on the windowbench, wide awake despite it being the middle of the night, face and hands plastered to the glass as she took in nature’s fury. Cap had repeatedly told her to come away from the window, visions of a wayward branch or God-knows-what smashing through the glass and knocking her lifeless to the floor keeping him from sleep. Of course, though, Cass had repeatedly either ignored him or snuck back to the window the second she thought he was asleep. Usually he admired her pluck, he really did, but that night he found himself wishing she was just <i>a little</i> less plucky; at least then she'd be safely huddled under her blankets instead of tempting fate by the window. It had taken an invitation to join him under his covers, along with the promise of showing her 'something interesting' in the morning, to get her to (finally) stop sneaking off like that. Pressed against his chest, Cass had somehow fallen asleep amid the deafening noise of the storm. For his part, though, Cap had stayed awake a while longer thanks to the noise and struggling to think of 'something interesting.' A length of frayed rope languishing in a corner ultimately provided the needed inspiration.</p><p>Back in the present, Williams nodded understandingly, curious about said 'long night' but not wanting to pry; besides, he knew Cass well and had a pretty good idea of the sorts of antics she'd gotten up to while the rest of the castle had been trying to sleep. Still, the glint intensified rather than dimmed. “Ah,” he remarked, standing and stretching out an ever-present crick in his neck. “So you're hoping she'll be so taken by the wonders of knot-tying that she'll run away to sea and quit trying to turn you gray before you're forty?" </p><p>Williams couldn't help the laugh he barked out at the look Cap gave him as he sputtered for an appropriate response that adequately expressed his incredulous indignation, completely missing the captain's teasing tone. "At ease, Cap," Williams smiled good-naturedly. "I'm just having you on; I know you'd never want to part with the kid." Then, placing a companionable hand on Cap's shoulder, added in a concerned tone. "Perhaps you should take the morning off, though. I don’t mind watching Cassandra for a few hours while you indulge in a quick catnap."</p><p>Cap shook his head, flinging away any residual fatigue from his lack of a good night’s sleep, and stood a little straighter. “Not necessary, sir; nothing some fresh air won't fix.”</p><p> Williams swallowed a remark about setting an example for the girl on the floor, but knew that he'd just be wasting his breath trying to convince his workhaloic lieutenant otherwise. “Very well,” he sighed, then slipped into his professional demeanor. “There have been some preliminary reports of damage from last night's storm in some of the farms and outlying villages. I need someone to ride out and bring back a full report. Check for downed trees blocking roads, note washed out bridges, that sort of thing. Think you’re up to it?”</p><p> “Of course.” </p><p>Of course. <i>Man could be half-dead and still be 'up to it,' </i>Williams thought to himself as Cap continued speaking. </p><p>“I assure you, I-“ </p><p>“Daddy, what comes after twelve?” Cass interrupted suddenly from the floor, oblivious to the conversation occurring over her head as she counted the knots she’d tied thus far. </p><p>“Thirteen. Anyway, I assure you-“ </p><p>“Daddy, what comes after thirteen?” </p><p>“Fourteen, sweetie. Rest assured, Captain, I-“ </p><p>“Daddy-“ </p><p>“Fifteen. I-“ </p><p>“I get the message,” Williams cut him off, smiling; leave it to Cap to instruct his daughther in knot-tying, horsemanship, and how to identify various types of swords before how to count, and made a mental note to mention the apparently junior concept of ‘schooling’ to Cap later. With that he handed over a scrap of parchment bearing the names of a handful of villages, the bottom having been surreptitiously torn off and jammed in the captain's pocket during Cass's inadvertent distraction. </p><p>Cap nodded gratefully and looked over the (surprisingly short) list before sliding his gaze over to Cass, considering. He spoke just as she opened her mouth to ask what came after fifteen. “Cassandra, want to come out for a ride with me?” </p><p>Numbers and knots forgotten entirely, Cass leapt to her feet and ran over to him, somehow glowing even brighter than earlier. “Really?!?” </p><p>“So long as you behave.” And even though his voice held a warning, it was tempered by his grin.</p><p>“I will!” Cass said excitedly before running off to find her shoes. Williams chuckled, both at her unabashed eagerness and Cap's better-concealed but undoubtedly still there delight. He knew Cap would never admit it, but it was obvious he loved nothing more than bringing Cass along on rides whenever he was able to (it was honestly hard to tell who enjoyed the 'treat' more, father or daughter).</p><p> “Maybe take Apollo, then,” he remarked with a wink. “Even though you just made her day, I think you also just ruined Romulus’s,”. </p><p>“It’s been over a year; he-”</p><p> Cap's reply was buried under the grating, scraping sound of Cass bodily trying to drag over her father’s sword, safely sheathed in its scabbard. “I...got...(unh!)...your sword, Daddy,” she grunted out between tugs, struggling against the weight of the blade. “Now...(hrn!)...we...can go.” </p><p>The visage of the diminutive girl attempting to move a weapon that was clearly meant to be wielded by a person many times her size was unintentionally droll, and both men chuckled at the sight. "Thank you, hon," Cap said, voice warm with a mixture of amusement and affection. "But I don't think I'll need that today. We're just going to see what kind of damage last night's storm did." </p><p>A metallic clang sounded as Cass's trembling arms finally rebelled and she dropped the sword to the floor, her face falling along with it. "But I <i>like</i> when you bring your sword," she said plaintively. "It makes you look neat."</p><p>”You do cut an impressive figure with it,” Williams conceded, smiling with bemusement, both at the pleading way Cass was looking at her father and the way Cap was largely failing to school the bashful grin off his face as he cleared his throat, trying to rid it of sentiment.</p><p>"Since you already got it out for me," Cap finally answered. "I don't see why not." He then proceeded to give up the battle with the grin as Cass excitedly jumped in place, shouting "Yay!" in her high, piping voice. To the Cheshire Cat in human form on his right, he added, "Though I'm inclined to disagree with you about cutting an impressive figure." </p><p>Williams laughed outright as he clapped Cap on the shoulder, knowing full well that any formidability afforded to his lieutenant by the sword was immediately undone by the little girl sitting ahead of him in the saddle. With that he prepared to take his leave of the pair, pausing on the threshold to watch Cap easily heft the sword in one hand and fasten it to his belt, Cass watching with admiring eyes.</p><p>"Alright," Cap said, after double-checking that the weapon was secured. "Let's go."</p><p>The word was like a starter's pistol as Cass barreled out of the room and down the corridor that led towards the stables, pausing at a corner to bounce in place and wait for the incredibly slow grown-ups to catch up. </p><p>"You know," Williams said as he watched Cap step into the hall and close the door behind him. "I meant what I said about Apollo. Old boy could use the exercise, and he really likes Cass."</p><p>"Romulus will do." Cap replied flatly. "Horse has gotta learn to take to her sooner or later." He then gave a quick salute in farewell, extinguishing the possibility of further debate on the topic, and strode towards Cass, who had started doubling back to implore her daddy to "Hurry up!"</p><p> Williams sighed as he watched the two disappear around the corner.<i>He <span class="u">will</span> take that horse,</i> he thought to himself ruefully. <i>Just hope he doesn't regret it.</i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>****************************************</p>
</div><p>“Daddy, can I hold the reins?”</p><p>Cap glanced at Cassandra, seated in front of him on Romulus, and grinned down at her wide, hopeful eyes. They had been riding for several hours, him taking note of downed trees (quite a few of those) and roads washed out from flooded creekbeds (thankfully, not as many as he had feared) while Cass sat contentedly in front of him,  simply enjoying the pleasurable feelings wrought from being out for a ride with her daddy on a beautiful day. </p><p>For it was a beautiful day, clear and fine, with a few innocuous clouds lingering over the horizon, sky completely devoid of any evidence of last night’s tempest. The road was as quiet as the heavens above, sleepy farm country on his right and arcadian woods on his left, completely devoid of anything that would require quick thinking or expert maneuvers from a rider; he couldn’t ask for a better stretch. </p><p> “I don’t see why not. Here.”</p><p> Large calloused hands passed the thin leather strips to softer, much smaller ones amid peals of delighted giggles, gently guiding the young fingers into the proper position. It was no secret that Cass was fascinated with horses, often hovering around the royal stables when not trailing after her father and becoming a favorite of the grooms and stableboys, with Peder often letting her ride bareback on some of the more docile mounts while he led them around the yard. There was no doubt in Cap's mind that she’d be wanting to learn to ride on her own for real sooner rather than later, thus he had resolved to start instilling good habits whenever an opportunity arose.</p><p>“There,” he said, removing his hands from Cass’s so she was holding the reins without his aid. “Always make sure you hold them just like this; the horse will respond to you better.”</p><p> “I wanna go fast!” she said, gleefully snapping the reins against Romulus’s neck, just like she’d seen her father do.</p><p> Romulus maintained his ambling pace and looked back at Cap with an annoyed expression, chuffing as though saying, <i>Seriously, you’re letting the kid drive?</i>, clearly determined to <i>not</i> 'learn to take' to his Lieutenant’s rambunctious filly of a girl. Cap gave a halfway sorry-but-not-really shrug in response before returning his attention to his daughter. </p><p>“It’s not working!” Cass complained, continuing her efforts with the reins.</p><p> “Well,” Cap said, tapping her shoulder and drawing her attention to the muddy road they were currently on. “See how slick the ground is from all the rain we had last night?” </p><p>“Yes...” Cass nodded slowly, remembering how loud the apartment had been as the rain pounded against the glass of the window and stones of the wall and roof; it had been very exciting until her father finally pried her away from watching the chaos outside to go to bed (but she got to snuggle under the blankets with him, so she hadn’t minded in the least).</p><p> “Romulus knows that if he goes too fast on this mud, he might slip and get hurt. So, he makes sure to go slow and be careful.” He also refused to take commands from the (in his eyes) irritant that the lieutenant insisted on bringing along, but she didn’t need to know that. “Not every horse is as smart as him, though,” Cap continued, biting back a chuckle as the horse in question lifted his head higher and thrust his nose in the air proudly, and he knew without looking back that the midnight tail was likely raised regally as well. “As a rider, you need to be mindful of what sorts of surfaces you’re traveling over and make decisions with the horse’s safety in mind.” </p><p>Cass nodded sagely at his impromptu lesson in horsemanship, quickly peered down to the left and right to take in the muddy road a second time, dotted intermittently with puddles, and, deciding that that her dad was probably right about it being slippery, loudly remarked, “Aw, crap!” </p><p>Cap choked on air and coughed, frantically looking around the country road to see if anyone had heard his daughter's exclamation that, while not a flat-out swear, was decidedly rude. </p><p>“What did you just say, young lady?” </p><p>“Crap,” Cass repeated, less concerned with her father’s incredulity and more with trying to get Romulus to at least break into a trot, completely oblivious to the farmer’s wife driving a cart in the opposite direction who had just clapped her hands over her young son’s ears, glaring daggers at a reddened Cap as he waved a sheepish apology.</p><p>“Cassandra, you shouldn’t say that,” he managed after the audience of two was out of earshot. </p><p> “Your men do,” she countered, experimentally tapping her heel against what she could reach of the chestnut shoulder; maybe that would work?</p><p> “That doesn’t mean-“</p><p> “And so do you.”</p><p> Aw, crap. </p><p>Cass’s simple observtion put an end to conversation for a time. Cap had promptly started occupying himself with trying to decide what would be easier: cleaning up his and his men’s speech lest Cass start sounding more like a sailor's daughter than a guardsman's or trying to rationalize with her about appropriate language (he was actually leaning towards the former). For her part, Cass continued assiduously flicking the reins of a visibly annoyed Romulus, whose ears were pinned flat against his neck, bearing the expression of one determined to ignore the horsefly buzzing about their head (why oh why oh why?). Each of the three was lost in their own thoughts to such a degree that the wagoner at the side of the road would have likely gone unnoticed had he not leapt out into the road, waving his arms over his head and shouting, “Hi! Look here! Hold up!”</p><p>Romulus directly halted, stopping so abruptly that Cass would have fallen forward against his neck had Cap’s arm not been firmly wrapped around her waist. Cap took in the man, breeches and hands caked with thick mud and face troubled but tinged with relief, no doubt thanks to his sudden appearance. “Is there a problem, sir?”</p><p> “Yes, Lieutenant,” the man nodded, giving a slight bow before indicating a wagon, rear wheels sunk up to their axels in a muddy ditch with a tired-looking ox hitched to the front. “As you can see, my wagon’s stuck; I’ve been trying to free it for the past hour and, well, I could really use some help.”</p><p> By the time the man had turned his supplicatory eyes back in his direction, Cap had dismounted, lifted Cass down from Romulus’s back, and was carrying her to the shaded forest-edged grass at the opposite side of the road with Romulus following behind him. “Of course," he responded over his shoulder. “Permit me a minute?”</p><p> The farmer nodded again and reteated back to his partially-submerged cart as Cap placed Cass down on the damp grass, crouching to be at her level. “Now, Cassandra,” he said seriously. “I need you to stay put for a while, alright? No running off, no going out of sight; just wait here until I finish helping this man. Understand?”</p><p>"But I wanna keep riding,” Cass pouted, lower lip turning out. Whenever her dad stopped to help someone, it always took a looonnnggg time, and this wagon looked really stuck. </p><p>“Cassandra,” Cap said in a voice Cass knew was his ‘listen-here-young-lady’ tone. “As a royal guard, I have a duty to help the citizens of Corona when they’re in distress, even if I would rather go do something else. That includes this man and his wagon. It would be wrong to leave him here without at least trying to help. Even if I wasn't a guard, we'd still have a moral obligation to try to do something. So, we stop and help him, and if we can’t, we go and find someone who can. Alright?” </p><p>Cass considered this a moment, eyes studying the still-wet grass before lifting them to meet his. "What's a 'moral ob-li-ga-tion?'"</p><p>Whoops; forgot she didn't know those words. Cap furrowed his brow as he tried to think of an impromptu explanation a five-year-old could understand. "It means...er..." (wow, this was harder to describe than he thought) "...that...whether or not you're a guard...you're supposed to do the right thing." </p><p>"I think the right thing is to keep riding." Cass said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Maybe we'll find a dry road and can go fast!"</p><p>Cap rubbed the bridge of his nose. <i>Great going. You taught her how to say 'crap' but left out morality.</i> "Cassandra, that's not the right thing right now."</p><p>"I think it is."</p><p>"It isn't."</p><p>Cass's set expression turned puzzled. "How do you know it isn't?"</p><p>"Uh...instinct."</p><p>Cass looked like she wanted to question his certainty further (followed by a question about what instinct was), but Cap spoke first. </p><p>"Plus I'm a guard and it's my job." They could be here all day debating what constituted 'the right thing' and defining half-a-dozen words for intangible things, and he had to get a move on if he wanted to hit all the places on his list. Lessons in probity could wait until they got back (maybe Williams had some ideas). "Got it?"</p><p>“Yes, Daddy,” Cass said with a disappointed sigh, black curls bouncing with her affirmative nod. She may not understand 'moral whatever-the-second-word-was' or 'instink' but she understood about jobs: you had to do them whether you wanted to or not. It was sometimes hard to remember that being a guard meant helping out with sunken wagons or broken-down fences or cats stupid enough to get themselves stuck in trees just as much as it did carrying impressive weapons, riding fine horses, and having everyone look up to you as a hero. But she was trying, and when her dad clapped her approvingly on her shoulder, she smiled, pleased at his pleasure.</p><p> “Atta girl. This won't take too long.” Then turning to Romulus, who immediately stood at ready attention, like always, commanded, “Keep an eye on her.” </p><p>Instantly the horse’s stern, no-nonsense expression melted into one of proper horror as he whinned in disblief. </p><p>“Look,” Cap said, grabbing the reins looped over his neck and pulling the proud head closer so he could speak without Cass’s keen ears listening in. “I know you’re not particularly fond of her-" Romulus rolled his eyes and grunted sarcastically "-But I am, and seeing how she’s my daughter, the least you can do is make an effort to be interested.  Now then, as the most responsible horse on the guard, I expect you to not let her out of your sight until I’m done. Understand?” </p><p>Cap’s praise had the desired effect. Romulus drew himself up impressively, gave a curt nod, and moved to stand in the shade near Cass, eyes glued to her as she rooted around in the storm-felled debris for a nice stick.</p><p>Satisfied, Cap left to return to the farmer, ready to face the daunting (and no doubt messy) task of freeing his wagon, confident in Cass’s compliance and Romulus’s ability to keep her in line.</p><p>Perhaps he put too much faith in both.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I could have called this fic  'A Series of Unfortunate Decisions.' Cap just made the first; stand by for more.</p><p>I love the horses in the world of Tangled; they have so much personality and do a great job of expressing themselves without saying a word. One of the funnest parts of writing this series for me was creating a small herd of personable horse OCs to serve as predecessors to Max and Fidella, with the cranky, way-too-serious, not-at-all-fond-of-Cass Romulus being a particular favorite of mine.</p><p>I do feel I should note, though, that his name wasn't my creation (I'm terrible at names). Per the Internet grapevine, this is the name given to the horse Cap rides at the beginning of 'Tangled: Before Ever After;' while it isn't said in the show, apparently it was written on the storyboards (it's been nearly a year since I read that, though, and can't quite recall where I saw it). My Romulus has little in common with this one, but it's still where I got the name, so I felt it deserved mention.</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please think about leaving a comment or kudos if you did! Hopefully I'll have chapter two ready to go within a week. Until then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Decisions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Wow everyone, thanks so much for all the support for Chapter 1! To say it was unexpected would be an understatement. I wasn't feeling too confident about this as I was writing it and am floored by all your kind words. They go a long way towards helping dispel my lingering uncertainty about posting this fic.</p><p>Anyway, read on for Chapter 2; stuff starts to happen (because how could it not?).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Romulus couldn’t believe the turn this day had taken. Here he was, the First Lieutenant’s horse, a creature of flawless training and impeccable breeding, playing the role of babysitter to the wayward waif said lieutenant had (for some reason) decided was his.</p><p> He pawed at a stray twig in the muddy road, moving it back onto the grassy shoulder and thereby restoring a small bit of order to the storm-tousled world. While the Lieutenant’s naming him the most responsible horse in the royal stables had felt good in the moment, the effect had worn thin with each passing minute spent watching the over-active girl rummage for sticks, drag them through the mud, or toss rocks into puddles for the sake of trying to make as big a splash as she could. </p><p>Why his lieutenant favored her so he had no idea. </p><p>All he knew was that now, with her in their life, it was up to him to maintain at least some of the professional appearance their occupation and station demanded; if that meant glaring menacingly and pinning his ears at the girl for doing something as unbecoming as poking around in a mud puddle or convincing the Lieutenant to actually <i>pick her up</i> in the town square like some housewife with a babe, so be it. </p><p>Of course, he guessed all must have been for naught since now he was stuck playing nursemaid to the kid. If that’s what Cap had wanted he should have taken the old broodmare Pietra or Apollo, who gave nary a thought to grandness despite being the Captain’s preferred mount (prior to injuring his leg, at least). He huffed and flicked his tail agitatedly, featherlight strands tickling against his haunches as he let his gaze drift from the girl to wander about with his thoughts. Could there be a more undignified job? He should be helping set that cart to right or searching for crooks to apprehend or- </p><p>His eyes lit up suddenly as he noticed, quite a way up the road from the mud-lodged wagon, a farmer's field, green with young shoots of whatever he was growing, being accosted by crows so thickly packed on the dirt that it appeared a living onyx carpet shifted and rustled on the ground. They would certainly ruin the farmer’s crop if left unchecked. Something must be done. </p><p>Romulus started to take a step towards the crop carnage, but his hoof stilled midway to the ground. </p><p>He couldn't go. He already had his assignment. Babysitter to devilry incarnate.</p><p>Romulus chuffed agitatedly as he glanced from the pillaging birds to Cassandra, digging through the mud for more pebbles, and back; birds to girl, birds to girl, birds to girl. </p><p>Finally, with a snort (and a cautious glance at the Lieutenant), he struck off at a trot he refused Cassandra earlier (it really wasn’t too slippery for that) and headed towards the field. He felt some unease at disobeying an explicit order, but, at the end of the day, he was a horse of the royal guard who shared with his rider (the one who mattered, at least) a duty to the people of Corona to preserve their lives and livelihood. To ignore such an occurrence would be against his very nature. Reprehensible, in fact. Worthy of being stripped of his post and sent to live life as a lowly plow horse. The kid could take care of herself for a while; this was far more important and infinitely more fitting.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***********************************</p>
</div><p>Cass leaned heavily against the bole of a tree with a sigh, dully scanning the ground for anything interesting. Nothing. Not even an ant. Figures. </p><p>Just as she had suspected, freeing the wagon was an incredibly time-consuming task. She was sure she had been waiting for at least an hour, probably two, during which she’d scratched crude figures in mud with a stick (and promptly smeared them into oblivion, dismayed as she was at her terrible drawing skills), beat the tree with said stick until it broke (stick, not tree; though that <i>would</i> have been neat), and thrown pebbles into puddles until she ran out (again, pebbles not puddles). Now she was bored with absolutely nothing to do while she waited for her daddy to finish helping that farmer so they could continue their ride.</p><p>Idle eyes scanned the surrounding road and fields her outpost overlooked whilst idle hands wound strands of curly hair around her fingers, open invitations for that perennial mischief-maker who finds them so diverting. </p><p>What to do now? </p><p>The puddles and their fitness for jumping in were considered only briefly before being dismissed; she knew from experience that mud and saddle leather didn’t mix and did not want to do anything that might give her father a reason to simply walk alongside Romulus with her rather than ride. Hey, speaking of, where <i>was</i> Romulus?</p><p>Cass quickly glanced around the immediate vicinity; the only animals present were the ox, half-asleep while her father and the farmer clawed mud away from the wheels, and a songbird who had just alighted in her tree. There was no sign of her father’s stocky chestnut horse. </p><p>She frowned, pushing off the bole to walk around a little. It wasn’t like Romulus to abandon his post. Maybe her father had given him a new assignment? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d had one eye on him the whole time and knew for a fact he hadn’t returned to this side of the road nor addressed anyone but the farmer since crossing it. </p><p>Perhaps he was stolen? </p><p>The idea promptly sent a thrill through her and her gaze turned eager as she rapidly looked about for any signs of bandits. </p><p>None.</p><p>Drat.</p><p> She instantly chastised herself, kicking at a felled branch she had pulled all the leaves off of for the heck of it. She should know better than to consider such a dumb idea. Romulus was one of the guard’s finest horses and would certainly make any bandits regret their life decisions if they so much as laid a finger on him. Besides, she was sure that if a pack of bandits had shown up, she would have heard it. Captain Williams often said she'd hear a mouse sneeze (usually after she said something that surprised the grown-ups and made her dad look funny), so she was sure she would have noticed the sudden appearance of enough bandits to steal a horse and the inevitable scuffle that would follow.</p><p>Well, then supposing he simply wandered off? This place <i>was</i> pretty boring. </p><p>The muddy road was examined for the telltale imprint of horseshoes indicating which way he went. Sure enough, she could just make out, among his prints from earlier, hers, and her father's, a trail leading back up the road the way they came.</p><p>She cocked her head, puzzled. Why on earth would he head back the way they came? It’s not like there was anything of note there. She puzzled for a moment longer, then, eyes glued to the tracks in the road, started following them. He probably wasn't doing anything terribly interesting, but, hey, neither was she, and solving a mystery, even a boring one, was still something to do.</p><p>She hadn't walked more than a few yards when a rustling, screeching nose burst from the woods that bordered Cass’s side of the road. Instantly, her head snapped towards the sound, and an excited light illuminated her face.</p><p> Now <i>this</i> was interesting!</p><p>Cass took a step towards the trees and their cryptic shadows, no doubt hiding all manner of mysteries and adventures, but hesitated. She glanced back at her dad. </p><p>Her dad, who had told her in no uncertain terms that she was to stay put.</p><p> A nail was nibbled thoughtfully as she replayed his words, searching for a loophole. <i>No running off, no going out of sight...</i></p><p> Wow, he really covered all his bases this time.</p><p> She let her gaze lower from her father and the wagon to the muddy road, once again finding Romulus’s prints. She distinctly remembered the horse being told to keep an eye on her, and <i>he</i> had clearly disobeyed, so, really, was it so bad if she did too? Besides, she’d only go in a <i>little</i> ways, just to find out what made that sound, and this time, she’d be smart and leave a trail so she could find her way out again (only a complete dope would make the same mistake twice). </p><p>The more Cass thought about this plan, the better it became. Why, if she was mindful of how long she was in the forest, she could probably return to her tree long before her dad had finished with the wagon. She’d have her fun and he’d be none the wiser.</p><p>It was perfect.</p><p>With this frame of mind, then, Cass quickly darted back and gathered up a few pebbles out of the puddles she’d landed them in (light-colored ones) and, with a last glance at her engrossed, up-to-his-waist-in-mud father (at least it wouldn’t be her fault that they had to choose between walking home or ruining the saddle), the intrepid explorer was off on her quest for excitement, ready to find the enigmatic rusting-screeching thing that, she had decided, could be nothing less interesting than a dragon.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>A bird.</p><p>The rustling-screeching thing had been a bird. And not even an unusual bird: a sun sparrow. That wouldn’t have been such a letdown if it had been doing something riveting like fighting a snake, but it had simply been bringing food to its nest full of screaming, shoving babies, which would have been more interesting if there wasn’t a nest exactly like this outside Captain Williams’ window (for some reason he had laughed and her father had coughed oddly when she asked, after watching the bird parents run themselves ragged, what the point of babies was and why anyone would put themselves through that; it was a perfectly reasonable question). </p><p>The mystery having been solved (in a most dissatisfying way), Cass stepped back from the bush she had been peering in and looked around at the section of forest her quest had led her to. It really was a nice forest: the trees were large and tall, with trunks so wide she doubted her dad could put his arms all the way around one. The thick branches high overhead were heavy with leaves and grew so close that the sun couldn’t peek through except in snatches and bits, leaving the perfect mix of light and dark: enough light to see by but not so much as to completely chase away the shadows that curled up in hollows or prowled under bushes, promising all manner of possibilities. The place where she’d entered the wood was no longer visible, but thanks to her incredible foresight her trail of pebbles shone in the underbrush she had tramped through like stars reflected on a quiet stream, waiting to lead her back to where her father expected to find her, which, now that she had had some (<i>some</i>) excitement, she should start heading back to. </p><p>Before leaving, though, Cass turned to give one last look into the trees. The darkness seemed to shimmer invitingly like a pond on a hot summer’s day, whispering in her ears of all the wonderous things it held that were just waiting for someone to discover, someone like her. </p><p><i>Your dad will be mad if he finds out you ran off,</i> the annoying goody-goody voice in her head chided.</p><p>Cass pointed her feet towards the stars on the stream.</p><p>Another sound suddenly burst from a particularly black patch of shadows, the sound of something large and heavy crashing noisily through the brush.</p><p>To Cass’s credit, she did take one step towards her path before quickly chucking another pebble to the ground and streaking off deeper into the woods, in pursuit of her new quarry.</p><p>Maybe this one was a dragon.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>Romulus blew out his nostrils as he tramped back to the tree where he was supposed to be watching the Lieutenant's pet little girl, feet dragging slightly through the mud. Chasing off those crows had been harder than he initially thought (tenacious little things...) and much to his chagrin he had found himself almost wishing he had brought Cassandra; no doubt her loud and obnoxious ways would have scared off those feathery vagrants in a matter of seconds. </p><p>His eyes flicked over to the muddied wagon as he returned to his assigned post. The men were apparently trying to create some sort of ramp with wooden planks now, having dug out most of the mud from around the rear wheels. Progress, but they likely still had a ways to go. Looks like he’d be stuck babysitting Cassandra for a while longer. </p><p>The proud barrel chest heaved with a resigned sigh as Romulus approached the tree, bracing himself for another span of endless minutes watching the troublesome tyke amuse herself in pointless ways. She had been rooting for pebbles when he left, and now as he returned she was-</p><p>Gone.</p><p>.....</p><p>Crap.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, golly, Romulus, what did you think would happen? She'd stay put? Cass's hypothetical bandits aren't the only ones regretting their life decisions now.</p><p>The story of the other time Cass wandered off somewhere, didn't leave a trail, and got lost is actually from another fic I've written but haven't posted yet. It still needs some polishing, but I promise I have every intention to share it.</p><p>Chapter 3 next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Discoveries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>...And we're back! A day late because this took longer to edit than I expected!</p>
<p>This chapter may be a little on the slow side, but, well, I needed to set up the rest of the story somehow. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was <i>gone!</i></p>
<p>Romulus frantically nosed through the storm detritus, pawed at puddles, and peered up into the tree’s leafy branches, searching for some sign of Cass.</p>
<p> Nothing. Cassandra had disappeared into thin air. </p>
<p>How had this happened?</p>
<p> Oh, wait, he knew: it happened because he just <i>had</i> to go and attend to those stupid birds in that stupid field instead of doing the stupid job he'd been stupidly assigned. What a dingbat! He kicked the tree in frustration, hard enough to leave a hoof-sized divot in the trunk and shake several nervous leaves loose, adding to the disorder on the ground. Now the Lieutenant’s girl was missing and-</p>
<p>Oh no.</p>
<p>The Lieutenant! Romulus's eyes widened as his mind raced and sweat dampened his neck. He wasn’t an imaginative creature, but it didn’t take a particularly creative mind to picture the man’s ire once he discovered his favorite little girl had vanished thanks to the actions of his favorite (or, he presumed, now least-favorite) horse. Nor did it take much effort to envision the tannery on the outskirts of Old Corona. </p>
<p>A hard swallow coursed down his throat at the thought. He had to find her. <i>Now.</i></p>
<p>The fine head was shaken violently, as though doing so would dispel all notions of glue and dog meat, a desperate effort to order his mind and slow the heart that couldn't have been pounding harder if he had just galloped a marathon. He peered over at his reflection in a puddle, noting with dismay the nervous eyes and sweat-darkened chestnut hide. Pathetic. He looked absolutely pathetic, and it was well deserved.</p>
<p>The water rippled from his ensuing sigh, distorting the loathsome visage, and the movement of the broad chest caused the royal crest on his breastplate to catch the light and glisten, a reminder of sorts. A hoof promptly stamped in the puddle, banishing the image of the rueful creature. What was he doing panicking and feeling sorry for himself? He was a palace horse in the employ of the royal guard; he <i>did not</i> panic, and he certainly <i>did not</i> wallow in self pity. This should be treated as any other missing person case, never mind who the girl (or her father) was. </p>
<p>Romulus shuddered his hide, shaking off a few tired flies and the disquieting demise-related thoughts, and squared his stance so he was standing tall and proud once again. First order of business was to set to work tracking her, and seeing how he was one of the best trackers among the guard’s steeds, this shouldn’t be hard at all, despite the surrounding minefield of puddles on the road and grass, diffusing and dissolving her scent until it was as invisible to his nose as it was to his eyes. While some of the other horses on the guard may’ve struggled, it’d almost be child’s play for him. In fact, if he hurried, he could have her back in place under the tree before Cap ever noticed she was gone.</p>
<p>“Glad to be of service!”</p>
<p>Romulus pounded his head against the bole. Or at least he <i>could</i> have if the ramps hadn’t worked unexpectedly well, freeing the wagon from the mud and Cap from his labor much sooner than he initially thought possible. Cap, who was even now waving over his shoulder as he strode back across the road and would discover Romulus’s transgression in a matter of seconds. </p>
<p>Another forceful meeting of head and tree. This wasn’t going to be pretty.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>***********************************</p>
</div><p>Cap waved off the rapidly-shrinking wagon (that ox was faster than he looked) as he made his way back to where he left his daughter and mount, feeling quite satisfied at a job well done. Granted, he was now covered in sopping mud from the waist down, and would probably be walking for the next stretch until he dried lest he damage the leather saddle, but it was worth it to help the man and set an example for Cass about what a life of service to the kingdom actually entailed. All in all, a surprisingly productive morning. And surprisingly productive mornings put him in an uncommonly good mood.</p>
<p>Thus when he approached the shady spot where he left his small company, he chuckled at the sight of the dignified Romulus trying to give himself a concussion. As trying as Cass could be, the horse was surely being overly dramatic, no doubt mentally cursing the equine gods that designed for him to be landed in such a disagreeable position. <i>Maybe I should have ridden Apollo</i>, he thought wryly as he took in his anguished steed. Idly, his eyes wandered about the area, curious to see what amusement Cass had discovered that had set his horse in such a state.</p>
<p>His good humor vanished like a puddle in the summer sun.</p>
<p>“ROMULUS!” he shouted, voice red hot with rapidly rising panic. The horse promptly ceased his self-recriminating behavior and stood at attention, brown eyes conspicuously fixed on a distant fencepost. </p>
<p>“Romulus,” Cap’s words trembled slightly as he struggled to keep his mounting sense of dread at bay. “Where’s Cassandra?” </p>
<p>Romulus’s ears drooped and he took on a fearful expression as he gave a low uncertain whinny, his answer as clear as if it had ben spoken in plain English. </p>
<p>“GONE?!?” Cap thundered, and for a moment the storm from the night before returned. In the distance, the crows that had reappeared in their harrier's absence took wing, cawing raucously, Romulus sliding his gaze over and wishing he could join them. </p>
<p>“How? Weren’t you watching her?” </p>
<p>Foam dripped to cowering on the grass as Romulus mouthed his bit nervously before shaking his head. Cap’s face turned a shade to reflect the fire spewing from his lips, looking all the world like a dragon rounding on the knight who dared to trifle with its young. </p>
<p>“What in the world were you thinking?”</p>
<p> Romulus neighed a blame-shifting protest, which Cap answered without missing a beat. “Well, she wouldn’t have wandered off if <i>someone</i> had been there to stop her! You had one job! What could have possibly been more important?”</p>
<p> Romulus decided that that was probably a rhetorical question and returned to staring at the fencepost, though even if it wasn’t, there was no way he was going to provide the truthful answer of ‘being a living scarecrow.’ </p>
<p>Cap started to pace, taking deep breaths through his nose, thoughts whirling through his head with a speed and ferocity that rivaled the storm whose mess surrounded him. While this wasn’t the first time Cass had gone missing (<i>why</i> did this keep happening?), every one of the previous instances had been within the protective walls of the castle, the barracks, or the courtyard, not out here in the wild, unbounded realm of the world beyond where any path was hers to take, and any danger was hers to find.</p>
<p> And knowing her, she <i>would</i> find some. Unbidden visages of the potential miseries that could befall Cass, put into his head by years on the guard helping to locate more than a few missing children, presented themselves in a grim procession, each as harrowing as the last.</p>
<p>He was forced to stop and lean against the tree as his legs began to tremble, scenario after scenario playing out in his mind’s eye, and for a horrible moment he felt himself starting to despair as though Cass was already lost to him.</p>
<p>A fist in a muddied glove slammed the tree trunk just above the hoofprint, and the stinging tingle that coursed through his arm seemed to school his thoughts into order. Cass was missing, yes, but he was not powerless. </p>
<p>He stalked over to Romulus, still standing stiffly but for a nervously swishing tail. “Get tracking,” he growled, and though he had no intention to draw it, his hand tightened habitually on his sword.</p>
<p>Romulus needed no further prompting. His head dropped faster than a ball of lead as he snuffled and whiffled through the grass and mud for the unique mix of ginger spice and dry hay and metal sharpened to a bite that signified Cassandra, occasionally snorting to blow meddlesome water droplets out of his way, and Cap had his heels. The ginger/hay/metal scent, diluted by the ubiquitous water, was faint, but still there, marking a trail clear enough to follow. They made their way up he road in the direction they’d come, Romulus noticing that it was also the direction he’d initially disappeared to, causing a spear of guilt to pierce his hide as he wondered if she'd been looking for him. The scent suddenly intensified causing him to veer away from the road onto the grassy shoulder, until it strengthened and warmed, pooling around a round, white pebble, exactly of the sort she had been tossing in puddles earlier.</p>
<p>Romulus neighed victoriously and stamped a hoof near the rock. The lieutenant came up beside him, scowling at the ground. </p>
<p>“What, a pebble? How-“ A bright white something frisked in his periphery, and when he turned to investigate he beheld a second pebble a yard or two away, then a third, several yards beyond that, together creating a clearly marked trail into the woods. Or, more pertinently, a trail to the maker. </p>
<p>Without a second thought Cap swung into the saddle, Romulus moving forward at a brisk walk without urging or command in the direction of the pebbles. “At least one of you showed some common sense today,” Cap grumbled, and Romulus winced at the dodge his words carried. </p>
<p>Suddenly, without warning, Romulus halted so abruptly that Cap nearly fell forward against the pommel. "What the- keep moving!" Cap commanded, booted heels meeting flanks. But despite the close distance, his words and touch failed to reach the horse's ears. Instead, the animal's eyes widened to match nostrils that quivered like a lingering autumn leaf buffeted by the wind as his breath turned short and quick . </p>
<p>There was a second scent coming from the direction Cassandra had headed. Something dark and fetid and black that burned away a lifetime of training and discipline and hubris. It pulled at his horsey instincts to take over, to whirl on his hooves in the opposite direction and <i>run</i>, without stopping, until he was back safe in his stall. </p>
<p>For it was a death smell.</p>
<p>He whickered uncertainly, shifting his weight to take a step back, but the heavy pull of the bit against his mouth and press of boot heels digging into his sides brought him back. Death smell or no, he was a horse of the guard, proud, determined, fearless, and he was on a mission. As such, it was his sworn duty to not turn tail or rest until success was his (not that the man on his back wouldn't let him in this particular case).</p>
<p>Plus, this whole mess was kinda his fault anyway.</p>
<p>With that he struck off yet again, nose to the ground, keeping one wary eye trained on the umbra that prowled past them forebodingly on either side. Cap, for his part, maintained a stoic, troubled silence, eyes keen for any bright white rocks shining like beacons in the underbrush, ears tuned for any sounds of distress or danger coming from the shrouded woods, praying that Cass wasn't as terrified as he was. </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>Cass was having a marvelous time. Her boring afternoon had become an exciting one as she tracked her dragon (or something equally fascinating) through thickets and over tree roots, pausing now and again to explore the myriad wonders the woods had to offer. </p>
<p>And what wonders! Squirrels playing at tag in the branches overhead; streams filled with minnows that gleamed silver in the rare snatches of sunlight; frogs that *blooped* underwater with strange twanging sounds; birds that banged their heads against trees (way more interesting than sun sparrows). </p>
<p>All in all, she did not regret her decision to heed the call of the beckoning woods, not one bit, even if she had run out of pebbles some time ago and had consented to marking her way with snapped twigs or weeds plucked from the dirt and laid atop stones or stumps. Man, she was <i>smart,</i> thinking of that all by herself; she’d have to show her daddy what a good explorer she was sometime when she wasn’t disobeying him. </p>
<p>Cass grimaced as a tiny twinge of guilt twisted in her gut when she thought about the father she was blatantly disobeying. As it was, she had already spent far more time tramping through the woods than she should have and would likely be cutting it close if she wanted to return undetected before her dad finished with the wagon. He wouldn't be pleased with her for wandering off when he told her not to, no doubt about that. She really should start heading back...</p>
<p>But she still hadn't found her creature yet! She paused after scrambling over a fallen log, wiping sweat from her brow and reaching behind her neck to lift the strands of hair that had stuck there, visually sweeping the ground for any sign of the animal. </p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>Again.</p>
<p>Cass huffed, placing her hands on her hips. You would think something so obviously huge (judging by the crashing sounds she kept hearing, the source always just out of sight) wouldn't be so hard to track. As it was, beyond the aforementioned noises and patches of brush destruction, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of the whatever-it-was. No tufts of fur snagged on jutting scales of bark, no feathers forgotten in its wake, not even any droppings for her feet to avoid. </p>
<p>She sighed, frustrated at her difficulties, glowering up at the canopy that had, as she ventured deeper into the woods, become so thick almost no sun penetrated. This would be easier with a little more light. As it was, the shadows were nearly as thick as the leaves above, no doubt selfishly hiding those creature-signs she sought from view. Too bad she wasn't an owl; then she'd have no problem finding cool stuff in the dark. <i>Hmph.</i> She kicked at a pebble (not one of hers), watching sulkily as it bounced and scuttled right into-
</p>
<p>Her eyes widened.</p>
<p>
  <i>Footprints!</i>
</p>
<p> Cass darted over to the muddy patch and dropped to her knees, running her fingers over the imprints, tracing the outline of humongous paws, the deep pinholes left by long curved claws, and noting, with thrilling satisfaction, that even if she spread her hand to its full width she barely cleared the center divot created by the main part of the paw.
</p>
<p>Because it was a paw, pretty similar to the ones she saw by the royal kennels. In fact, she would have supposed her mystery creature was a dog if not for a few conspicuous differences, the enormous size being only the first. For one, the toes of the pawprint she studied were splayed wide, almost like the animal was unsure of the ground it stepped on, and the way the various prints were spaced wasn't normal, she knew. Instead of marching forward in a straight, orderly fashion, like Romulus's from earlier, they wove one way and then another, almost like the animal had been drunk (could that even happen? How would they get drunk in the woods? Ooh, maybe this is what happened when you ate one of those berries her dad said not to touch).</p>
<p>Cass cocked her head as she stared at the prints, trying to puzzle out what sort of animal she was tracking. All signs were currently pointing to a giant drunken dog who didn't know how to walk on mud. Was that even a thing? Or was this just some disoriented monster of a hunting hound? Well, only one way to find out (either way, it'd probably at least look cool).</p>
<p>She started to stand, ready to abandon her scrutiny in favor of following the prints, when something winked coyly in the corner of her eye.</p>
<p>There, off to the side of one of the sets of prints, something shone tantalizingly on the ground in a beam of tempting sunlight. Cass ventured closer, curious as ever. <i>Huh,</i> she thought, beholding a strange sort of puddle. That's weird. For this puddle didn't hold water like the ones Romulus had been primly avoiding on the road, but something else, something wet, sticky-looking, and filled with thick, white foam, not too different from that she saw at the seaside.</p>
<p>What was seaside foam doing in the woods? They were nowhere near the ocean. This, Cass promptly decided, must be investigated. Tentatively, she reached out a finger towards the anomaly, intending to see if it felt like seaside foam, and then maybe see if it smelled or tasted salty, but was stopped nary an inch away by a distinctly human scream. </p>
<p>The keening wail tore through the silence of the woods, ripping at her ears in its haste to alert every last bush, bole, and bug to its presence. Popping up from her novel discovery, Cass took a cautious step back towards the dandelion she had left draped over a raised tree root. Her dad had impressed upon her, early and often, the importance of staying away from strange people, and whoever or whatever was making this noise was <i>definitely</i> strange. Besides, like that nagging holier-than-thou voice in her head kept reminding her, she <span class="u">really</span> had to be getting back. </p>
<p>Cass hesitated, though, ears straining; there was something in that wail that was giving her pause, rooting her as firmly to the spot as the trees surrounding her. She need not have strained, though, for when it came again it's message was too clear to be missed. </p>
<p>“AAAAAAHHH!!! HEEELLLPPP!!!” </p>
<p>Help. Whoever was screaming needed help.</p>
<p> <i>Whether or not you're a guard...you're supposed to do the right thing.</i> </p>
<p>
  <i>How do you know what that is?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Uh...instinct</i>
</p>
<p>Cass still didn't know what instinct was, but that feeling that had just risen up in her chest, the one that was urging her to move towards the scream and not back the way she came? Yeah, she was pretty sure that was it.</p>
<p> She spared one last glance towards her path before racing off towards the voice, ears so attuned for the next piercing scream that they were deaf to the sound of a heavy body breaking through brush not too far to the left, or the unholy growls that came with it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anyone have any guesses as to what made those tracks Cass found?</p>
<p>And, yeah, I know horses don't track scents nose to the ground like dogs do (at least, I've never heard of them doing that), but since Max does in the 'Tangled' movie, I decided that, yup, Corona horses can do that.</p>
<p>Lastly, just a friendly note that, as of next week, my university classes will resume, meaning that I won't be able to devote as much time to reading, writing, and posting fics as I have these past couple months. But I will still try to keep up with the once-a-week schedule for this little tale (I really can't wait to share the rest of it!) and keep posting new stuff beyond it (though possibly at a slower pace; we'll see). See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ready for Chapter 4? Well then, here it is! Hope you enjoy!</p>
<p>And thank you all so much for your continued support of this story!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“HEEEELLLLPPPP!!!!”</p>
<p>Twigs snapped and leaves crunched with flustered excitement as Cass ran through the forest, letting the piercing cry, steadily growing louder in volume, guide her steps, no longer bothering to deliberately mark her trail. Every now and then a faint ripping sound would join the snaps and crunches and screams as grasping branches would attempt to halt her flight, but she paid them no heed (wouldn’t be the first dress she’d ruined); there was something far more important on her mind.</p>
<p> Someone needed help, and as far as she could tell there was no one else for miles around to provide it, meaning the duty fell to her to 'do the right thing.' A duty she would perform with all the strength and courage demanded of a guard. Her dad would probably still be cross with her for wandering off once he inevitably discovered her disobedience, but there was no way he’d be able to say she was in the wrong for saving whichever poor soul was responsible for the ear-splitting screams. He’d be so proud of her!</p>
<p>Cass clambered up and over a fallen log before leaping across a small brook, not slowing for a heartbeat even as she nearly lost her footing upon landing. As the cries grew louder the closer she got to their source, her head couldn't help but fill with visions of the glory and praise she was sure to receive as a result of her heroic actions. The excited eyes sparked with delight as she pictured herself sitting astride Romulus as she returned to the castle the triumphant hero, her father beaming with pride behind her, Captain Williams and the other guards showering her with praise, falling into a mud-filled hole...</p>
<p>Wait, HOLE?!?</p>
<p>Cass skidded to a halt inches away from the lip of a large, gaping hole, several feet in diameter, several more deep, with steeply sloping sides that were slick with mud formed by last night's driving rain. The entire pit was rendered practically invisible in the almost non-existent light of the thick wood, the shadows cast by the trees bleeding into those of the hole. </p>
<p>Cass cocked her head and ran a thinking hand through her hair, idly tugging at the more-than-occasional knot. This was odd, what was a random hole doing in the middle of the forest? It looked too big and neat to be made by anything but a person. Perhaps it was some sort of trap, like the kinds Captain Williams said were used in distant lands to capture wild beasts too large and dangerous for a snare? Ooh, if that was the case, then maybe there was something interesting inside (probably not her creature, judging from the lack of smashed shrubbery and giant pawprints). Carefully, Cass leaned forward, peering over the lip to the distant bottom, an idle corner of her mind noting that the scream had suddenly stopped.</p>
<p>“AAAAAIIIIIEEEE!!!"</p>
<p>Cass stumbled back from the edge, clapping her hands over her ears. The scream was back, louder and more piercing than ever, and-</p>
<p>And it seemed to be coming from the hole! </p>
<p>Cautiously, Cass lifted one hand from her ear, preparing to check her suspicion. Promptly, it was attacked by another round of screams. </p>
<p>“SOOOOOMMMOOOONNNEEE!!! HEEELLLPPPP!!!” </p>
<p>The shielding hand was replaced as quickly as it was lifted. Yup. Turns out, there was something interesting in the hole: a person, specifically, judging by the high-pitched, screeching sounds destroying the forest’s calm and her eardrums, a young girl. Despite the annoyed feeling that started to rise in her chest at the ceaseless screams, quickly becoming more grating than exciting now that she was only a few feet away from their source, Cass couldn’t help the smile breaking out across her face.</p>
<p> This day just kept getting better! </p>
<p>First the fun of exploring the woods, then tracking her creature (which she <i>would</i> get back to; it shouldn't be too hard to find its trail again), and now successfully finding the person who needed help, all by herself. What luck! Now she could save them, follow her instinks, do the right thing, and be a good guard. A hero, just like Daddy (that shouldn’t be too hard, right?). </p>
<p>Hands still over her ears, Cass crept back to the edge of the hole and leaned out as far as she dared (wouldn’t want to fall in; then she’d be the one needing saving instead of doing it, and that would be embarrassing). Hazel eyes strained through the dark until they could just make out the mud-covered girl cowering at the bottom, head buried in her knees as she continued to howl, the knees somehow doing nothing to muffle the cries.</p>
<p>“Hey!” Cass shouted, trying to make her voice heard over the wails. The girl didn’t respond, simply sobbing harder and louder (somehow). </p>
<p>“HEY!!!” Cass increased her volume, with no better results. Frowning in frustration, she reached down to the inside wall of the hole, grabbed a fistful of mud, and threw it down at the girl. </p>
<p><i>“HEY!!!!”</i> The mudball landed squarely on the girl’s head, and the cries stopped as she yelped and looked up in surprise, face streaked with mud and tears, instantly meeting Cass’s eyes. </p>
<p>Silence stretched between the two for neither knew how long before the girl in the hole finally broke it. “Are y-y-you a b-b-b-bandit?”</p>
<p> “Nu-uh,” Cass said with a shake of her head, black curls whipping around her face in agreement. </p>
<p>“A k-k-kidnap-p-p-er?”</p>
<p> “No.” Cass peered down cautiously. A kidnapper? What in the world-? </p>
<p>“An an-g-g-gel, then. Am I gonna d-d-die in here?” </p>
<p>And Frau Dagmar said <i>she</i> had an imagination. </p>
<p>“I’m Cassandra,” Cass supplied before the girl could propose her being a nymph or demure princess or something equally ridiculous. “And I’m going to save you!” </p>
<p>A tiny voice in her head, like a cricket on her shoulder, whispered that she should go get her dad, that he would know what to do better than her, that this was the kind of job for a grown-up, but she brushed it off. She could handle this herself; she didn’t need any help. Besides, if she did that then she wouldn't get to be a hero, and she <i>really</i> wanted to be one so that Daddy (and everyone else, but mostly Daddy) would be proud of her.</p>
<p>“Really?” the girl asked, disbelieving. “H-h-h-how?” </p>
<p>Good question. </p>
<p>“Um....” Cass surveyed the hole and the girl sitting at the bottom. “Can you climb out?”</p>
<p>“I already tried that,” she answered, words wobbling. “The sides are too slippery...” Her sentence dissolved into another sob, and the next thing Cass knew her hands had found their way back to her ears as the girl’s wails started anew, louder than before now that her head wasn’t buried in her knees. As if that weren't bad enough, the hole served as a sort of bullhorn, amplifying her voice until Cass’s ears were ringing with the long, drawn-out cries. </p>
<p><i>Yeesh,</i> Cass thought disdainfully. <i>No need to be such a baby about it. It's just a hole.</i> Protective hands still in place, Cass straightened, looking around at the nearby trees and bushes who she couldn’t help but envy just the slightest due to their lack of ears, trying desperately to think of a solution. The sooner she helped this girl, the sooner she’d shut the heck up and stop crying. And become a hero, of course, though as the minutes stretched on and the girl showed no sign of running out of breath or her voice giving out, that outcome was starting to feel less important (she knew how to prioritize). </p>
<p>The way she saw it, there was only one way out of the hole: climbing. But the girl said the sides were too slippery to climb, and judging by the appearance and texture of the mud Cass believed it. She’d need something to help her climb out. A ladder would work, but there certainly weren’t any lying around in the woods, and she didn’t know how to make one. Maybe a ramp, like the gangplanks she saw on ships? No, that wouldn’t do for the same reasons as the ladder. Whatever she used needed to be something she could find in the forest. </p>
<p>Cass huffed. It’d be a lot easier to think without all that crying in the background. “Would you shut up for a moment?” Cass shouted down irritably. “I’m trying to think!” </p>
<p>“B-b-but I’m stuck!” </p>
<p>
  <i>Yeah, I know.</i>
</p>
<p>“A-a-and sc-sc-scared. </p>
<p>
  <i>That’s dumb; there’s nothing scary about a hole. Be quiet!</i>
</p>
<p>“And h-h-hungry.” </p>
<p>Hungry? There’s an idea. </p>
<p>“Here, you want this?” Cass shouted into the hole, pulling a dry biscuit her dad had insisted she bring along as a sort of lunch out of her pocket and waving it as though she were trying to catch the attention of a horse or dog (the crumbly thing tasted like chalk and Cass wouldn't have eaten it if it was the last piece of 'food' on Earth, but the girl didn't have to know that). </p>
<p>Wet blue eyes snapped to Cass’s hand, following it eagerly, and the girl they belonged to nodded. </p>
<p>“Then catch!” Cass chucked the biscuit into the hole, where the girl caught it and started tearing at it hungrily, not minding the mud that her filthy fingers smeared on the vittle. “Don’t eat too fast,” Cass warned in that tone Myrna the cook always used when she handed Cass a favored treat, hoping to buy herself a few more moments of peace by encouraging the girl to make the snack (if the biscuit could even be called that) last as long as possible. “Or you’ll choke and-“ </p>
<p>On second thought, better to think fast and leave that thought unfinished.</p>
<p>Cass returned to scanning the small forest clearing, for something, <i>anything,</i> she could use to get the girl out of the hole. A large stick or branch or- </p>
<p>Her eyes lit up as they landed on a thin, wiry vine wrapped around a tree with bristly brown hairs sprouting up all along its length. Instantly she darted over to where it had twined around the tree, tugging and pulling until it was completely unwound from its host and lay in a heap at her feet, looking all the world like the rope she had been tying knots in that very morning. </p>
<p>
  <i>Yes!</i>
</p>
<p> Cass immediately set to work, looping and tossing it around the trunk nearest the hole as she tied her dad’s invincible knot. A few experimental tugs yielded satisfactory results, and she sprinted back over to the hole, tossing the other end down to the girl, who had just finished the biscuit and looked like she was preparing to keen again. </p>
<p>
  <i>Just in the nick of time.</i>
</p>
<p>“Here!” Cass shouted, not bothering to hide her excitement (she couldn’t have planned this better!). “Use this to climb up!”</p>
<p> The girl cautiously made her way over to the vine, lightly brushing tentative fingers against it's rough surface and grimacing at the hairs (okay, those <i>were</i> kinda gross). She gave a sopping sniff. “Are you sure it’s safe?” </p>
<p>“Positive!” Cass answered brightly, her pleasure with herself and her cleverness eclipsing any annoyance she would have otherwise felt at the girl’s hesitation and weepiness. “I tied the other end to a tree.” </p>
<p>“What if the knot comes undone?” the girl dithered, wringing her hands. </p>
<p>“It won’t,” Cass assured her, then, puffing out her chest a little, added in an important tone, “My Daddy taught it to me. He’s the First Lieutenant in the Royal Guard, and he said it’s guaranteed to stay tied no matter what. See?” Cass grabbed part of the vine and gave a few hard tugs to demonstrate. </p>
<p>This seemed to finally satisfy the girl's paranoia, and she grabbed hold of the makeshift rope with both hands, knuckles white in a death grip, and began making her way up the slope. It was clear she was disused to climbing things, ropes especially, and her progress was slow; on several occasions a foot would slip on the slick mud, and Cass would swallow a gasp at the thought of her plan not working (and the girl's sobs starting up again), but thanks to the way she had her hands latched onto the vine as though her life depended on it, she never lost too much ground. “That’s right,” Cass encouraged from her perch on the rim, parroting words she’d heard her dad say to his men when doing similar exercises in the training yard. “Keep it up. Move it along.”</p>
<p>The vine creaked and quivered as it strained with the girl’s weight, but the knot held, the fibers did not snap, and eventually (far longer than Cass had anticipated; she could have climbed up much faster) she was grabbing the girl’s muck-coated hand and helping her up onto solid ground and away from the hole’s edge. </p>
<p>The air turned still as the flurry of activity surrounding the rim died down, while Cass panted slightly, trying to catch her breath (the girl was heavier than she looked) and the rescuee shakily pushed herself into a sit with arms trembling from the feat her ascent. Watching her, Cass didn't bother trying to rein in the smile that grew so broad it threatened to crack her face. She had done it! She saved the girl! She was officially a hero, just like her dad! She couldn’t wait to tell him!  But first things first. </p>
<p>She stepped closer to the girl, peering at her critically, searching for any signs that the girl was hurt (that was always the first thing her dad when he got her out of a scrape). No blood, no cuts, and as far as Cass had seen she hadn't hit her head, so she guessed the girl was okay, despite having not said anything since her deliverance from the pit of mud (or cried, but Cass had no complaints about that). </p>
<p>What next? Well, maybe try to talk to her to make extra sure she hadn't hurt herself or was feeling sick or something (it wouldn't do to have the proof of her heroism suddenly keel over start retching). "Hey," she said, raising her voice a little. “You okay?” </p>
<p>Brown eyes in a face striped with mud were lifted and the next thing Cass knew she was being crushed in a suffocating hug. </p>
<p>“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!!  I-I thought I was gonna die-e-e.” </p>
<p>...And the girl was crying. Again. Great. </p>
<p>“Get off!” Cass growled, wriggling in the girl’s arms (no one told her hugging was part of being a hero! Her dad didn’t get hugs for saving people!). The girl promptly obeyed, not wanting to anger her deliverer, and looked at Cass apologetically. </p>
<p>“Sorry. I was just so scared.” </p>
<p>“Of what?” Cass asked with a note of exasperation. “It’s just a hole.” </p>
<p>“No it’s not,” the girl said, shaking her head as she latched onto the first part of Cass's statement and ignored the second. “It’s a trap. My Papa and brothers made it.” </p>
<p>“Really?” Cass said, eyeing the hole with a new interest; so her earlier guess was correct. “What are you trying to catch?” Secretly, she hoped the girl wouldn't say her personal mystery creature; <i>she</i> was going to find that one and didn't want competition.</p>
<p>A rustling in the shrouded underbrush stilled their tongues, save for a strangled “Eep!” from Hole-girl as she grabbed Cass and dragged her in front of herself like a protective shield (which was ridiculous since she was the taller and broader of the two). </p>
<p>“Th-th-th-that!” she stammered, sweating palms trembling on Cass’s arms. “The Mad Beast!”</p>
<p>Everything that happened next was a blur. One shadow separated itself from the rest and leapt towards the girls. Hole-girl screamed and wheeled about, running like a whipped horse in the opposite direction, shoving Cass in her haste. Cass, legs stiff with surprise and reeling from the girl’s push (she was stronger than she looked), stumbled as she pitched forward, feet finding not the ground at the edge of the hole but the empty air beyond. </p>
<p>A quick scream of her own was left behind as she plunged down into the black maw, air shrieking along with her. A horrible <i>*crack*</i> ricocheted within the bullhorn as she landed, one ankle crumpling and crunching underneath her. The hands found a new purpose then in covering her mouth as a second scream fought for release, tongue numb to the taste of mud that slipped between her lips, skin numb to the chill of the water from the puddle she landed in seeping through her dress, every part of her numb to everything but the fresh, hot pain radiating and racing from the ankle folded beneath her.</p>
<p>She could not, would not, scream and give away her position, not when she could clearly hear <i>something</i> stalking towards the hole. Whether it was the creature she had been tracking or the girl's beast, this was not how she wanted to meet it, sitting at the bottom of a hole where the whatever-it-was could pounce down on her any second; screaming like some dumb helpless baby was not an option. Besides, a royal guard wouldn’t stoop to such behavior; they were stronger and better than that.</p>
<p>Instead she concentrated on taking deep, measured breaths as she curled in on herself and let a few oddly-soothing tears and mewling whimpers escape, trying to expel the searing pain with the air and pathetic noises. Of course, it didn’t work, but she managed to eventually get enough of a handle on the pain and the shock of the fall to roll onto her back and look up with wide, shining eyes and gritted teeth at what she could see of the world above the hole and possibly catch a glimpse of the thing crushing moldy leaves and fallen twigs as it made it way towards the rim.</p>
<p> Her eyes were met with the equally wide ones of a rabbit.</p>
<p>A rabbit.</p>
<p>A run-of-the-mill, clover-nibbling, starts-at-its-own-shadow rabbit. </p>
<p>The furthest thing possible from a Mad Beast or a gigantic-pawed monstrosity. </p>
<p>Cass groaned and threw her arms over her face as the cricket on her shoulder chirped a second time, curt and scolding: she should have seen this coming, she really should have. Should have gotten her father and let him be the hero instead of trying to be one herself, because she certainly hadn't been one. Heroes didn't end up in the sopping bottoms of muddy holes with ankles that hurt so much they made you feel sick, all because they had the rotten luck to get pushed in after <i>someone</i> mistook a dumb bunny for a 'mad beast' that probably didn't even exist (likely just some stupid nursery story that girl's folks had used to frighten their already scaredy cat daughter). Winding up like that was for stupid people.</p>
<p>And that's exactly what Cass was right now. A stupid little girl. The only hero she was was one of idiotic proportions.</p>
<p>There was no way her daddy would be proud of this.</p>
<p>Having reached this decision, Cass saw nothing wrong with letting a few more of those tears and whimpers spill. Heroes didn't cry, but since she wasn't one, there was no point in holding back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Poor Cass, even as a kid she wanted to be a hero her dad would be proud of, and even as a kid she couldn't catch a break.</p>
<p>How was this chapter? It felt kinda 'meh' as I was editing it, so apologies if it's not up to par with the preceding ones.</p>
<p>Two to go! And, what's better, they're my two favorites with scenes that I loved writing, so I'm looking forward to sharing them! Until then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Hole</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The penultimate chapter! Hope you enjoy what happens next (even if Cass doesn't)!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tears must have done some good and washed away enough of Cass’s frustration and reproachful thoughts to clear her head, for not long after they started they stopped and she was pushing herself up to sit, wiping at wet eyes and nose with wetter hands. Whether or not she was a failure as a hero, she needed to get out of this hole and back to her dad. The earlier plan of returning undetected was now completely shot, as he’d no doubt notice her absence now, but when she weighed her options of returning home to a scolding, lecturing father against trying to survive on her own in the woods (which she was sure she could do; if rabbits and foxes and deer could do it, how hard could it be?), the former undisputedly won out; she couldn’t imagine never seeing her dad again, even if he was upset with her. </p><p>She peered through the murky dark of the hole, taking in her new surroundings, and furrowed her brow. Somehow, the sides appeared higher and steeper from the bottom looking up than the other way around. She reached out a hand to feel the nearest wall, one that looked slightly less steep than the others; the mud squished coldly against her palm as her hand shifted and slid without her will, unable to find even the slightest purchase. Cass frowned. She had known it was too slippery to climb, but a small, foolish part of her had hoped that wasn’t the case with this one relatively-friendly looking side.</p><p>The distant rim was studied again. Cass held her breath and listened as hard as she could for any sounds of footfalls heavy enough to signify a person or the sniffling, hiccupping breaths of the girl she had, for better or worse, saved. If she was lucky, the girl had stayed nearby. She’d better have, seeing how she was the entire reason Cass was in this mess, what with not only being dumb enough to fall into the hole in the first place but pushing Cass in as well; it was only fair that she stick around, help her out, and return the favor. </p><p>“HEY!” Cass shouted, trying to ignore the shudder that raced up her spine at the unnatural way her voice reverberated in the hole. “HEY-" Crap, she had forgotten to ask the girl’s name. “HEY, HOLE-GIRL! YOU STILL THERE?”</p><p>Only silence and shadows answered her echoing cries. </p><p>“YOU BETTER NOT HAVE LEFT!”</p><p> A jackdaw screeched somewhere, shrill and mocking, and the shudder sprinted again. </p><p>“YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW AND HELP ME GET OUT OR I’LL...I’LL...”</p><p>  The jackdaw flew off, as though irritated by her empty threats and incompetence, and the silence returned. Cass dropped her gaze to her soiled skirt, now more brown than green, not fearing that she’d miss the sight of her potential weepy-eyed deliverer. Waiting for her and hoping for her aid was as pointless as her earlier efforts at directing Romulus. Clearly, when she took off, she <i>took off</i>. For all Cass knew, she could be all the way in Old Corona by now.</p><p> For a brief moment she entertained the notion that the girl had gone for help and would be returning soon with the father and/or brothers she mentioned, but it was dismissed as quickly as it arrived. That dingbat was so flighty Cass doubted she’d remember the rescuer she’d pushed and left wallowing in a muddy pit to be devoured by the mad beast she was <i>so sure</i> was about to lunge from the bushes. No. Hole-girl couldn’t be counted on.</p><p>Cass idly scooped up a handful of watery mud, thinking, and watched it run through her fingers and drip down into a puddle, causing ripples to spread out across the murky brown soup. If not her, maybe someone else may come and save her? She could just keep shouting for help, like that girl had done, in the hopes that someone would hear her. </p><p>Brown droplets leapt through the air, escaping the fist she just slammed into the puddle. What was she thinking? Cry and scream so she looked like a weak, helpless little girl to whoever found her? To her <i>dad</i> should her cries reach him? Nope. Nu-uh. No way she’d do that. She’d keep her dignity, thank you very much, and stay in this dang hole for a <i>week</i> rather than let that happen. Right now, the only person Cass could count on was herself. There had to be something she could do, right here, right now, to get out.</p><p>The sharp eyes that had earlier been employed scouring the brush for creature tracks were now set to a new purpose, roving about the hole for something to aid in her escape. Sticks, leaves, dead squirrel (well, the girl was right about one thing: stuff really did die in here. Stupid stuff, which wouldn't include Cass if she could help it.). She frowned as she surveyed the surrounding debris. Everything here was useless as far as climbing out of the hole was concerned. Rock, another stick, strip of bark, her vine-</p><p>
  <i>Her vine!</i>
</p><p>How had she not thought about that sooner? The wonderfully useful vine that had aided in Hole-girl’s escape still lay draped over the edge, dangling down into the muddy depths that held her prisoner like a welcoming hand reaching down to offer her aid. In a heartbeat Cass scrambled to her feet, forgetting, in her excitement at the prospect of being free, the pain in her ankle. That is, until she stepped on it.</p><p>“AUGH!” </p><p>Cass tumbled gracelessly to the ground, landing in one of the many puddles. Waves of pain broke over her, one after the other, as she sucked air through gritted teeth. She swallowed hard, sending another scream retreating back to lie uncomfortably in her chest, as she turned to look at her foot and see what went wrong.</p><p> Instantly, she regretted that decision. </p><p>The ankle she had landed on when that stupid girl pushed her into the hole was redder and angrier and more swollen than she had thought humanly possible. Even more worriedly, it was bent out in such a way she had never seen it (or anyone else’s, for that matter) bend before. Ever so carefully, she reached out a hand to brush a fingertip against the scarlet skin. </p><p>No sooner had she touched it then she drew it back again with a pained gasp, tears leaping to the corners of her eyes as though morbidly curious to see why they’d ben unwillingly summoned. It was <i>hot,</i> like it had a fever, and it <i>hurt!</i> Touching it <i>hurt!</i> She shifted in the puddle and, setting her expression into a determined glare, tried to roll it. The glare promptly melted along with any color she may have had left in her pale face as fresh bolts of pain raced up her leg.</p><p>It wasn't moving.</p><p>Toes were commanded to wiggle; none did. Another roll was attempted; it was as still as the squirrel. The pain in her eyes was joined by fear and panic started to rise in her chest. </p><p>She couldn’t move it.</p><p> She couldn't move her foot.</p><p> <i>She’d killed her foot!</i></p><p>The panic spread from her chest to her shaking limbs and swarmed into her head, buzzing and stinging and numbing like hundreds of attacking bees. Mind blank of all but a desperate need to prove that that wasn't the case, Cass attempted to stand again, only to collapse in the puddle a second time. </p><p><i>No.</i> </p><p>Chest heaving and eyes swimming, Cass tried a third time. <i>No!</i></p><p> The fourth attempt sent her stomach roiling from pain. </p><p>
  <i>No!!!</i>
</p><p> The spots that had been steadily claiming more and more of her sight blotted out the world before she could hazard a fifth. </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>Cass didn’t know how long she was out, only that the sun was setting by the time she awoke. A few tongues of bright red flames from the dying day licked their way through the trees, but they did little to light the wood; if anything, it was darker than before. The already-shadowy forest was plunged into midnight darkness, and the midnight hole into pure uninterrupted black. She blinked awareness back into her eyes as best she could; it was unnerving to find that she couldn’t tell the difference between them being open or shut.</p><p> Gingerly, Cass sat up, wincing at the pain still radiating from the foot she’d killed, and peered dismally around the hole where she’d been lying for who knows how many hours. The black had swallowed her vine, and she had gotten sufficiently turned around in her repeated panicked attempts to stand that she no longer knew if she was even facing in the right way to simply grope across the hole towards it.</p><p> <i>Not that it matters,</i> she thought to herself dismally. <i>I couldn’t climb it anyway.</i>. She sniffed softly, rubbing at her nose and only succeeding in smearing it with more mud. She looked hopelessly up to the lip, seeing only shadows, and sighed. They had seemed so welcoming, those shadows, so exciting, so mysterious that afternoon when the sun had been watching and corralling them into unthreatening nooks and hollows. Now, without the light to keep them in check, they ran free, leering and snickering as they stared unflinchingly into the hole, jeering at the brave adventurer and dauntless would-be hero who had been reduced to little more than a cowering girl no different than the one who had been crouching in the muddy depths hours earlier. Well, with the difference that she wasn’t crying (though something told her that if things didn’t change soon, she would be).</p><p>Cass sighed again. She should probably start shouting for help and just suck up the indignity of it all. It'd be night soon, and the only thing she could think of that was worse than being stuck in this hole was being stuck in this hole all night. Alone. The thought sent a fear of a different sort bolting through her, and she gulped nervously. It wasn't that she was scared of being out in the woods alone after dark, she was just...cold. Yeah. Cold and wet and didn't want to catch a chill.

</p><p>
  <b>*Snap!*</b>
</p><p>Any further thoughts of shouting for help and not being scared fled as Cass straightened, eyes and ears suddenly on high alert. She waited, breathless, straining to hear over her pounding heart. </p><p>
  <b>*Snap!*</b>
</p><p> There! A footstep! Something or someone was moving through the brush in the direction of the hole. </p><p>Cass blinked rapidly, willing her eyes to adjust to the dark. She couldn’t see anyone, but- <b>*Snap!*</b> -there was definitely someone there.</p><p> “Hello?” she ventured with more timidity than she was wonted to. No one answered her call, but the sound of heavy breathing soon reached her ears; whatever was up there was big. </p><p>“Dad?” she tried, a little bolder. More breathing answered her, labored, she could now tell, and the snapping of twigs joined by something low and crackling she couldn’t place. </p><p>Cass shrank back. She didn’t know what was up there, but it certainly wasn’t her dad or any sane person, and she wanted no part of it, especially being stuck in a hole and down an appendage. Praying that it hadn’t heard her calls, Cass pressed her lips shut into a hard line, trapping the scream that was once again fighting for escape. </p><p>The thing continued toward the hole, as evidenced by more snapping twigs and the breaths and crackles growing steadily louder. The scream finally flew as a wolf crashed into the hole.</p><p>Cass scrambled backwards, dragging her foot until she felt the sloped wall against her back. Something must have shifted in the sky just then, maybe the sun or a cloud, and one of the tongues dared to venture into the hole, filling it with a dim blood-colored glow, eerily silhouetting the wolf as it staggered to its feet and dazedly shook its head, recovering from its fall.</p><p>It was huge. Enormous. If it had been tame like the dogs in the royal kennels, she could have ridden around on its back as though it were a pony (which it was roughly as big as; perhaps bigger, actually). Yet, despite its immense size, the animal was gaunt, like it hadn't had a good meal in a while (*gulp*). Sharp pointed ears, one of them sporting a ragged tear, sat like horns atop its head, and a long, thick tail, as bushy as the fur ruff trimming her winter coat, hung limply from its rump, tip dragging the ground.</p><p>Cass held her breath, pressing herself flat against the muddy wall, hoping beyond hope that the wolf couldn't hear her heart pounding so hard against her ribs it almost hurt. Maybe, just maybe, if she stayed still enough and quiet enough, it wouldn't notice her. <i>Please,</i> Cass silently begged the beast,<i> Please don't notice me. Please don't notice me. Please just climb out, go away, and-.</i></p><p>Slowly, the wolf lifted its muzzle into the air, ribs quivering with confused breaths. That was all the warning Cass had before it turned, found her with its sunken eyes, and started towards her with jerky, uncoordinated steps. The first of these took it directly into the sole beam of red light, giving Cass a clearer look at the animal, and she gasped in abject fear. </p><p>Yellowed fangs glinted in the light dangerously, and the fur on its paws and neck was thin and matted, patchy in places, and was completely gone in one painful-looking spot where a small gash (a bite mark, perhaps), swollen and marred by black clumps of old dried blood, glared evilly at her. All this combined to give the wolf a most fearsome appearance. But that wasn’t what frightened her most. Nor was it the head, tilted almost entirely to one side as though it had been stuck on the wrong way, or the eyes, dead though the animal blinked and breathed in hoarse, shaking breaths that seemed to strangle it. No, what frightened her most was the tongue, swollen and lolling from its mouth, dripping thick, white foam.</p><p> For at that moment Cass realized the girl had been right about a second thing. The Mad Beast was real. It was real, it was not a creation of fantasy, and it was<i> in the hole with her.</i></p><p>A mad beast.</p><p>She didn't know how she hadn't realized this earlier, thought of this the second the other girl screamed 'mad beast.' For Cass had heard about these beasts before, once, in the winter, when a small handful of guards had left to dispatch an animal gone mad. She had asked her dad what that meant, ‘gone mad,’ and he had explained to her about a disease that was more dangerous than the most vicious bandit. It caused animals to go crazy, attacking anything that moved, and whatever they bit would become infected with the disease as well thanks to the foam that poured from their mouths, which was the poison that caused the madness. There was no cure, no medicine that could be taken to prevent the disease from taking hold; to be bit was to die. </p><p>He had warned her, in that same stern, serious tone he had used when telling her to not play with weapons alone or go somewhere with a stranger, that if she should <i>ever</i> come across such an animal to get as far away as possible as fast as possible and find a farmer or guard or other well-armed person to kill it. Of course she had nodded solemnly and promised to do as he said. However, his warning said nothing about what to do when you couldn’t run.</p><p>Now, here she was, one foot completely useless, stuck in the bottom of a hole with the animal gone mad, slowly but surely moving closer. She gulped, nervous sweat running down her brow despite the chill of the night air, and Cass suddenly realized that it wasn’t the hole the girl had feared. </p><p>It was what could happen inside. </p><p>The wolf lifted a paw to take another erratic step, and thanks to the sun's blood filling the hole she saw the footprint it left behind. She swallowed down bile; she had seen these prints before. <i>This</i> was what she had been tracking. <i>This</i> was what was behind the mystery prints and the-</p><p>The mystery foam that <i>she almost touched!</i></p><p>She should have gone back to her dad.</p><p> The wolf lurched as it walked like a drunken man, the unearthly crackles that may have once been snarls bouncing off the sides of the hole, echoing and reverberating as they flooded into Cass’s ears, seeking to make her numb with fright and paralyze her into inaction. Cass shook her head, trying to dislodge the ensnaring sounds, and succeeded just a little. She couldn’t run, but she could fight. </p><p>Desperately, Cass felt about the muck for something she could use to defend herself, fingers finding the cold, stiff body of the dead squirrel. Not exactly a weapon, but a distraction could work too.</p><p>“Go away!” she shouted as she hurled the squirrel at the wolf, hitting it square in the unnaturally-tilted face. The animal didn’t even blink and continued its approach. </p><p>A rock. </p><p>“Leave me alone!” She shouted louder this time, and her toss once again found its mark, but the wolf went on as though she’d done nothing. </p><p>A stick. </p><p>“GIT!”</p><p> Three feet away now. </p><p>A clump of mud. </p><p>“Please!” </p><p>Her tears meant nothing. </p><p>Cass's fingers were shaking too much to find more ammunition.</p><p>
  <i> “DADDY! DADDY, HELP!!”</i>
</p><p>Only a foot or two separated Cass and the wolf. It was so close she could smell the sickness on its breath, hear the wheezes under the crackles, and see the spasming lips that curled up to reveal the black gums, dripping with the deadly foam, and the yellow teeth in the powerful jaw, trembling with anticipation, readying to fill her with the poison. It took another step, and the warm, rank breath, smelling of infection and rotten meat, brushed across her face as though tasting her skin before the teeth and jaw tore into her. She cowered further against the wall, too terrified to even whimper, but it was no good, no use. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go, and nothing to do, but wait for the bite.</p><p>It lunged-</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is it wrong of me to admit that I kinda scared myself writing this?</p><p>A quick mention of the literary works I turned to for models on how to write a suspenseful scene: the second I knew I wanted to go the 'rabid animal' route, I instantly thought of Christian McKay-Heidicker's <i>Scary Stories for Young Foxes</i>, (which is as much a 'kids' book as RTA is a 'kids' show), an (in my opinion) amazingly written book, especially in regards to creating a creepy atmosphere and edge-of-your-seat scenarios. </p><p>PocketProtector's incredible<i>Shadows</i> also kept coming to mind as I was trying to figure out a good balance between slowly building suspense and moving the action forward without getting too bogged down in descriptions. They have mastered this, creating nail-biting scenes that are a joy to read, and this chapter wouldn't have been the same without their influence. Please consider checking it out; I highly recommend it!</p><p>Well, that's all for now; I hope you come back next week for the end. I feel a little bad about the cliffhanger, so I'll try and make sure the last chapter is on-time. Fair warning, though: the chapter does open with some 'Graphic Depictions of Violence;' not much, but I just wanted to give a heads-up. Til then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Rescue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is! The final chapter of what is officially the longest fic I've posted to the archive! I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted the first chapter; admittedly, it's gonna feel kinda weird having this be done.</p><p>Anyway, read on for the end! (I hope it doesn't disappoint...).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Timidly, Cass opened eyes she didn’t realize had shut and met the vacant, unblinking ones of the mad wolf. They hung above her, black and cold, waiting for the moment when the quivering jaws would close around her neck.</p><p>But the moment didn’t come.</p><p>Though the rotten breath still slithered across her face and the crackles, now joined by sickening gurgles, still slunk into her ears, the wolf was frozen mid-leap. She tore her eyes from his and noticed that the dripping foam was now tinged pink, mixing with blood and pooling near her feet (she was too stiff with terror to pull them under her skirt) as the paws twitched uselessly in the air, all thanks to the sword piercing through his neck and pinning him to the wall of the hole.</p><p>
  <em>A sword.</em>
</p><p>Not quite believing what she was seeing, the hazel gaze traveled slowly up its length, finding first the gloved hand then the familiar deep red tunic and finally her father’s strangely white face.</p><p>
  <em>Daddy?</em>
</p><p>The word rose up in Cass’s throat and stuck there, as though terrified that if she spoke it into existence him and his sword would disappear, leaving her alone to be killed by the mad wolf. Unless she was dead already and the first thing you saw in he afterlife was your being saved from what killed you? That’d be weird. And a letdown since her foot still hurt and everyone said there wasn’t supposed to be any pain there.</p><p>Speaking of dying, the wolf continued to do so as it gagged and choked and fought for air though its severed windpipe, bloody foam continuing to pour from its mouth as the swollen tongue writhed, not knowing what to do with itself. Finally the animal gave a convulsive shudder and, with one last gasp like wind rattling winter-bare branches, slumped lifeless where it hung. Only then did her father pull his sword free and let the animal drop to the ground, drawing a startled yelp from Cass as she clumsily attempted to scrabble further away, her fear not receding even in the face of her assailant's death.</p><p>For the first time since his sudden lifesaving appearance, Cass's father blinked, and his chest started to heave with quivering, panting breaths. He let the sword fall from his grip to splash into one of the many mud puddles, brown staining the silver alongside the red, and took a step towards her before kneeling in the filth. Without a word he lifted Cass into his arms and pressed her to his chest.</p><p>That was all it took. All the frustration and fear that had been building in Cass since she was first pushed into the hole came bursting forth in tearing sobs and tremors that rivaled those of the dying wolf, for the moment not caring if she looked weak and pathetic or had failed to be a hero like him. She had been so <em>scared,</em> scared of being stuck in the hole forever, scared from killing her foot, scared of the rest of her being killed by the wolf. But all that was over now (well, not the foot thing, but who cares); her dad had found her and saved her and was <em>here,</em> holding her and stroking her hair and rubbing her back in that special way she had never thought she’d feel again, and she was just so, <em>so</em> relieved.</p><p>He didn’t try to stop her tears, simply letting her cry out her worry and terror as he offered her wordless comfort, there in the bottom of the hole. And perhaps her ears were playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn his breath caught in his throat as he sniffled above her, almost as though he were holding back a sob of his own.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>Cap woke the next morning with a groan at both the too-bright light and too-firm beds that were hallmarks of the castle infirmary. Blearily, he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on an elbow, looking over at the adjacent cot that was nearly flush with his. Cassandra was still fast asleep, one foot plastered and propped on a small pillow and arms suffocating the plush owl she never slept without and that someone must have brought over from their apartment (Williams, perhaps). He sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying as much to coax wakefulness into them as push those contemptible tears back. As long as the night of the storm had been, this past one had been much, much longer.</p><p>Slowly he pushed himself to sit, wincing as the unyielding, he-wasn’t-sure-they-were-actually-springs complained about his weight. He reached over to tuck some unruly black curls, stiff with mud they had let slide from the late hour, back behind Cass’s ear, letting his hand linger on the tearstained cheek. Absently, he rubbed away a damp track and found himself once again staring unbelieving at the pale neck, smooth as a snowfield and, by some stroke of luck or saving grace, unmarred by slashing red ribbons pouring blood and filled with foaming poison.</p><p>A ponderous sigh ruffled a few of the limp, curly strands, their exhausted owner not so much as stirring. She breathed, she was alive, she did not have to endure the blinding pain of a white-hot iron being thrust into bite wounds in a desperate yet always futile attempt to prevent the mad disease from taking hold (if she had even been so lucky/unlucky to make it to the forge).</p><p>All the ways last night could have ended had been playing out constantly in his mind’s eye ever since he pulled Cass into his arms after impaling the rabid wolf, unable to say a word as she cried, knowing full well that he was likely to break down and cry along with her if he tried. Now, with the warm reassuring light of mid-morning streaming into the room (Lord, he’d sept late), he felt those nearly-real scenarios retreat enough to make way for recollections of what had really happened.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>
  <em>They had lost the trail.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To her credit, Cass had done a surprisingly good job marking her way, using snapped twigs and plucked weeds once she apparently ran out of pebbles. The problem arose when she suddenly stopped. Whether she got distracted, lazy, or devoured (don't think like that!), Cap couldn't tell, but the fact of the matter was that he was now wholly useless in the search and wholly reliant on the tracking abilities of his horse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His horse, who had never been more dogged at a task. The steel in Romulus's eyes was kin to that of Cap's sword as the proud muzzle, now flecked with specks of mud, clinging dewdrops, and a few stray bits of crushed leaves and crumbs of dirt, swept across the forest floor, nostrils impossibly wide and quivering. Cap rode quietly, letting the master tracker concentrate, feeling as though he would burst from impatient anxiety with every breath, then every half-breath as the sun started to set and they had still not found hide nor hair of Cass. </em></p><p><em>For even though Romulus was highly skilled at all things tracking, their progress was aggravatingly slow. He had watched his horse work out a scent many times and could tell that this trail was (just his luck) a particularly difficult one, faint from the pervading damp and crisscrossed by those from all manner of animals: squirrels, rabbits, foxes, and something that made Romulus throw up his head, roll his eyes and neigh worriedly at the forest floor, necessitating Cap's reminding hand and terse voice to set his head straight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In hindsight, he should have heeded his mount's warning.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because then he would have been better able to brace himself for the terrified cry that rent the air and sent Romulus plunging without a thought through the brush, crashing, snapping, splintering, until the gaping black maw of the hole roared before them, depths illuminated by a red twilit light clearly showing Cass, cowering against one muddy side as what could only be a mad wolf lunged-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thought stopped there.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cap sprung from the saddle to the ground, from the ground into Hell's doorway, nearly losing his footing as he slid down the slope, eyes trained on the wolf as his hand moved towards his hip and the brazen cry of his sword being drawn sliced the air.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He honestly didn't remember much of what happened next, and doubted he ever would or wanted to (as it was, he knew that terrorized 'Daddy, help!' would haunt him to his dying day). What he did know was that he had managed to reach the bottom and impale the wolf mid-leap, watched from the corner of his eye as it took its final breaths, and pulled his little girl into his arms, taking a discomfiting length of time to compose himself before speaking.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cassandra, I told you to stay put!” (he hated that that was the first thing out of his mouth upon finding her). “What were you thinking wandering off like that? You should know better!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She had stayed quiet during the worry-and-fear-induced scolding as though she expected it (this wasn’t the first time, after all), merely nodding dully that, yes, she did know better, and, no, she wasn’t thinking. Finally Cap ran out of admonishments, and, after giving a last disgruntled huff, moved to put Cass down so he could try and figure out a way out of the hole (because of course she had to not only run off but fall in a ridiculously deep hole, too).</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No!” she screamed, voice sounding almost as affrighted as the one that had been the catalyst for Romulus's breakneck tear through the brush. “No, don’t! My foot!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What about your foot?” The scolding tone vanished and was replaced by concerned gruffness as he sat down properly in the muck and arranged her on his lap so her legs were out in front of her rather than folded under, allowing him a decent view of- Oh crap.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s dead!” Cass wailed as the tears prepared for an encore as he gaped at the swollen, awkwardly turned, no doubt excruciatingly painful appendage. “I killed it and its dead and now I’m lamed!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In spite of everything, Cap found himself biting back a chuckle at her use of horse terminology and the...interesting conclusion she had reached. “Its not dead, sweetheart,” he said in his most soothing voice. “It’s just broken.” Though it very well might end up dead if something isn’t done about it soon, he couldn’t help thinking. The scolding tone forced its return as he added, “What did you expect would happen if you went running around the woods and falling into holes?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I didn’t fall in!” Cass countered, indignant. “I was pushed!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She then proceeded to tell him all about the girl who thought she was a bandit then a kidnapper then an angel (Cap snorted a laugh at that last one), the crying, the vine (which she said they could use to get out, but he doubted would hold his weight), the rescue, the story of the mad beast and the hole created to capture it, how she had been pushed in when a dumb rabbit showed up and scared the even dumber girl, and how she had tried, really tried, to get out all by herself, and would have, too, if not for her foot.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cap listened quietly, mentally waging war, for while Cass wasn’t one to tell tales (thank goodness), this story just seemed too fantastic to believe; seriously, what were the odds of two little girls running loose in the same stretch of forest in on the same day in a kingdom as large as Corona? Any doubts he may have had about her honesty were instantly quashed at a defiant, challenging neigh from Romulus, stationed at the rim and keeping watch for bandits or gremlins or whatever lest the pair in the hole be visited by another uninvited guest. That same second Cap had one arm thrown around Cassandra and the other gripping the sullied sword, shouting, “Who goes there?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Josiah Trundel,” a low, baritone voice answered, only just audible under the continued brayed and whinnied threats. “Woodcutter. My daughter mentioned that someone had fallen in this here hole-”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I was pushed!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“-and may need some help getting out.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It had taken some doing, what with convincing Romulus that the brawny man wielding the well-sharpened axe was not there to murder anyone and working out how best to employ the rope said man had brought, but sooner rather than later Cap and his daughter were safely back above ground with a fretting horse who wouldn’t quit nosing the latter (and who became the very picture of guilt when he reached the throbbing ankle) and a woodcutter who wouldn’t quit falling over himself with thanks to the both of them for killing the mad beast (though why he had thought the best way to deal with such a menace was by digging a hazardous pit rather than notifying the guard was beyond him) and saving his Abigail (“She pushed me!”). The invitation to stay the night in his cottage had been politely declined in favor of one to show them the quickest route out of the woods and back to the road; besides Cass’s foot needing professional attention, she was clearly in no mood to be civil to the man’s daughter, never failing, despite the pain in her foot, to remind them how she wound up in the hole in the first place ("I was pushed!")</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was little else he remembered from the ride back beyond Romulus constantly looking over his shoulder as he smoothly loped along to ensure his unusually quiet riders were still conscious (namely the tiny one), but it must have been uneventful, unlike their arrival back at the castle. That had been a flurry of activity and motion, voices that were either harsh in their anxiousness (his, he supposed) or impossibly placid (definitely not his) and cries that attacked his heart with slashing claws as Cass’s mangled foot was set, tearing, distressed cries that rivaled those from the night he found her. It had been a mercy for both when she was dosed with something to dull the pain that almost instantly put her to sleep, hands fisted in his shirt wordlessly begging him to stay. Of course, he had, only leaving long enough to change into something dry and retrieve her owl (huh, turns out that’d been him) while Dagmar did likewise for Cass, also cleaning off what she could of the clinging mud ('could' being the operative word; the hair was too Augean a task for the late hour).</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thus had begun a night spent mostly not-sleeping on the cot next to Cass in the infirmary. Whatever she’d been given for pain wasn’t strong enough to prevent the mad wolf from haunting her slumber, and every few hours he found himself shaking her awake out of a nightmare, stroking her rimed hair until her heartbeat calmed and coaxing her back to sleep with stories he only half-remembered and (he was sure) just barely made sense. Even if she had slept through the night, though, he knew he would have been just as wakeful, for when the wolf wasn’t haunting the daughter it was plaguing the father, along with the singular harrowing thought that he almost didn’t bring his sword.</em>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>******************************</p>
</div><p>He almost didn’t bring his sword.</p><p>Cap wearily dropped his head into his hands as a shaking breath filled lungs tight with guilt and residual fear. Supposing he hadn’t had his sword on him? He would have been forced to watch, helpless, as his daughter suffered a terrible, painful death, a death that would have been his fault.</p><p>This whole mess was his fault, no matter how much he tried to shove blame onto Cass for wandering off or Romulus for failing to mind her, the end result of a series of bad decisions all made by yours truly. He shouldn’t have left her to wait for him by the woods; the farm fields on his side of the road would have been a far more suitable choice. He shouldn’t have stubbornly taken Romulus, who he knew didn’t care for Cass, and just ridden Apollo, who would happily follow Cass around like a big dog all day and was fit for little else beyond sedate patrols since injuring his leg anyway. And perhaps most of all he shouldn’t have taken Cass with him, not when he wasn’t completely <em>positive</em> that he could spend every minute of their outing with his eyes glued to her. What was he thinking? Ergh! <em>See</em> if he took her out with him like that again!</p><p><em>Of course</em>, he thought to himself dismally, eyes lifting and lighting on the bandaged foot, <em>it’s not like she’ll be fit to go anywhere for a while.</em> It was moments like these that he seriously doubted his suitability as a father. For all her penchant for getting into scrapes, willfulness, and sometimes surly attitude, she was such a nice little girl, smart as a whip, sweet if it suited her to be so, and shouldn’t have to put up with him and his incompetence. She deserved better. Better than a know-nothing guard who had gotten inexplicably attached to her. He was such a-</p><p>A tired mumble pulled him from his self-recriminating thoughts and back to the present, where Cassandra was slowly rubbing at her eyes with one hand and pushing herself to sit with the other, trying to wake up.</p><p>“Morning, sweetheart,” he said, moving to help prop her up with a few more of the flat pillows. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>She blinked a few times, taking in the room that wasn’t their own, flooded with light, the nightshirt that she doubtless had no recollection of being helped into, and finally her foot, a tangible, aching reminder of the events of the day before. Her face fell at the sight of the innocuous-seeming bandages encasing the foot, and the owl was once again put in a stranglehold as its owner buried her crestfallen expression in the plush. That was enough of an answer for Cap.</p><p>More protesting definitely-not-springs made their complaints known as he moved over to sit alongside Cass, one arm draped over her slim shoulders as he pulled her to lean against his side. She promptly popped up from the owl to dive into him (though still maintaining her impressive grip on the toy) and released a breath that shuddered through her like a guttering flame.</p><p>“Foot still hurts?” he asked, already knowing the answer. The girl pressed against his side nodded without lifting her face before mumbling into his shirt miserably, “I thought it’d be better.”</p><p>“Broken bones take time to heal, sweetie.”</p><p>“So tomorrow?”</p><p>“A little longer than that.”</p><p>“The day after tomorrow?”</p><p><em>Try six to eight weeks.</em> Cap sighed, thinking about the undoubtedly long weeks ahead with a sense of dread he couldn't help. Active Cassandra, who hated being cooped up even for a rainy afternoon, would not take well to being confined for such a stretch; he could already feel the massive headache he’d likely get to enjoy after enduring yet another afternoon of repeatedly explaining why she had to stay in bed and couldn’t go prowl around any of her usual haunts being 'helpful' (though he could think of a gardener or two who wouldn't object to her absence, not to mention Carlos and Ethel who would be able to roam the halls free of the fear of a little black-haired hoyden jumping out at them from the most unsuspecting spots).</p><p>He fell silent, mulling over what the coming weeks held, and Cass’s voice came again. “You’re prob’ly real mad at me, huh?”</p><p>Cap blinked. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that. He looked down at her in mild surprise, meeting her large, sad eyes. Mad? Well, yeah, he was mad; livid, actually, at Romulus for leaving his post but mostly at himself for being so careless as to allow this to happen and condemn his little girl to two months in bed. But mad at her? Impossible. “What makes you think that?”</p><p>“Because I was dumb.”</p><p>Cap was decidedly not comfortable with ‘feelings’ conversations and typically tried to avoid them at all costs (yet another reason he was a bad parent). But, as uncomfortable as this was for him, he could not let his daughter go on thinking that about herself (heedless, perhaps, but not dumb). “You are not dumb, Cassandra,” he said in a firm tone that he felt left no room for debate.</p><p>Cass didn’t seem to notice. “Yes I am. You said to stay put and I didn’t. That was dumb. Then I tried to help that girl and got hurt and needed help. That was dumb too.” Cap rubbed her arm while he tried and failed to think of a good response (he was doing really great at parenting today). Before he landed on one, Cass’s voice came again, bitter and full of shame. “And I was a big dumb baby ‘cause I-" She bit off her words and swallowed hard, clearly reconsidering and amending what she was about to say. "-cried about everything.”</p><p>Cass let her eyes drop to the owl, tugging irritably at a loose piece of stitching, and didn’t notice the way her dad’s were suddenly wet. Was that what she thought? That he was mad for her and thought her an idiot for wandering off and breaking her foot and needing help and getting scared (his skills at perception may have left something to be desired, but even he could tell that's what she had almost said) and crying in a situation that, even he could admit, completely called for it?</p><p><em>Well, you did yell at her</em> (dang internal voice).</p><p>If he wasn’t feeling so defeated he would have slapped a hand across his face. Curse his temper and tendency to lash out when he got worried or scared! He cast about for something to say, to tell her she was wrong, that he didn’t see her like that, and found his tongue refused to move. Still picking at the thread, Cass whispered, in a low, defeated tone, “I just wanted to be a hero like you.”</p><p>The innocent, childlike admission washed over him, warm and tingling, and his tongue was loosed. “Cassandra, look at me.” Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes from the seam she was close to destroying to meet his. “You aren’t a baby, and you certainly aren't dumb. It was a bad idea to run off like that, but you did do a lot of things right.”</p><p>“Like?”</p><p>“Well...,” he thought a moment. “You left a very good trail;" (until she didn't but that was beside the point). "I've seen many guards over the years who didn't show that kind of foresight." Cass gave a half smile at that. “And I saw that you used the knot I showed you. That was some good thinking” The smile became whole. “And you saved-“ His words suddenly felt thick, and he swallowed hard so they wouldn’t choke him. He looked down at the owl she still held and gently guided her hands away from the seam, more so she wouldn’t see the tears he was fighting than any concern about sparing the toy another clumsy mending. “You saved that girl’s life. She’d probably be dead by now if you hadn’t showed up and helped her out, and, well, how could I be mad at you for doing exactly what a good guard would do?”</p><p> How could he be mad at her for sparing a father and mother the pain of what he very nearly felt, even if the latter was brought about by the former?</p><p>Cass beamed to rival the sunbeams streaming in through the windows. “Really?”</p><p>“Really.”</p><p>“So I'm not in trouble?”</p><p>Cap pretended to consider a moment before looking at her with as must sternness as he could muster (admittedly, far less than usual) and a sparkling eye. “Well, I suppose I can let you off with a warning, soldier, so long as you get permission before attempting such a feat again. Understood?”</p><p>“Yes, sir!” Cass’s chirped response dissolved into a fit of giggles as her father took the owl and playfully scrubbed it against her neck in a ticklish way. “Daddy!” Her high voice shrieked with laughter and his own rumbling chuckle joined it, melting away some of the tension that lingered from the night before.</p><p>“And you’ll see,” he added a few minutes later, Cass having reclaimed her owl and once more leaning against him (maybe best not to roughhouse with her too much right now). "You’ll be back to running around and scaring the daylights out of Carlos and Ethel before you know it." He smiled down at her, and felt the earlier sense of dread retreat. The coming weeks no longer seemed interminable. After all, they were weeks he almost didn’t have with her, and he’d gladly have his head pound for the rest of his life than lose her. Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t know of more knots to teach her.</p><p>“I won’t have to stay here the whole time, right?” Cass asked, wrinkling her nose. “Cause I don’t like it here. It smells weird. And this bed’s too hard. And I can’t see out the window. And- what’s that?” Cap followed her gaze over to a table by the wall holding a wicker basket that, despite his foggy memories, he knew was not usually there.</p><p>Curious (like father like daughter, he supposed), Cap went over to the table and found a note folded neatly on top of the checkered cloth covering the basket’s contents, tidily addressed to ‘The First Lieutenant and his heroic daughter from the Trundels. Thank you for saving our Abby.’ “It’s from the woodcutter and his family,” he said, taking in the childish scrawl with which Abigail used to sign her name, "Thanking you for saving their daughter.”</p><p>“She pushed me!”</p><p>Cap couldn’t help but smile at the reappearance of the petulant assertion from the night before, glad to see the return of the usual sassy attitude that he loved so much. “I know, hon. You told me.” <em>Seventeen times.</em></p><p><em>She really had made a difference, hadn't she?</em> he mused, turning the note over in his hand. Sure, she disobeyed and, no, he never wanted to relive last night again, but supposing she had stayed put? He suppressed a shudder at the thought. Call it serendipitous or providential or some other word whose meaning he barely knew and certainly didn’t believe in, but someone saw the sun today who otherwise wouldn't have, all thanks to Cass (and the woeful domino trail of events he had inadvertently set into motion, but mostly Cass). Cass, who clearly felt he was a good enough father to be worth emulating, never mind his shortcomings. It was humbling and rewarding in a way his own successes as a guard were not, to have someone who looked up to him and valued him for something beyond soldiering. Loved him, at the risk of sounding sappy.</p><p>Maybe he’d rethink not taking her with him anymore.</p><p>"So,” Cass called from the bed, pulling him out of his thoughts for the second time (he really had to quit spending so much time in his head; self-reflection was a very good way to get very sentimental). She was craning her neck as much as possible, shifting this way and that, trying to see. “What is it?”</p><p>Cap peeked into the basket and smiled, bringing it over to Cass’s bed before pulling the cloth off entirely. She gasped with delight, and Cap couldn’t help his look of pure pleasure. The basket contained an apple pie, baked fresh with a crumb topping, almost as though the woodcutter and his family knew she preferred that over a regular crust.</p><p>“So,” Cap said after a mouth-watering moment, moving to replace the cloth. “Should I see about some breakfast?”</p><p>Cass studied the pie, thoughtful. “You know, Frau Dagmar says fruit is good for you.”</p><p>“Does she now?”</p><p>“And this is an apple pie, so its technically fruit.” She looked up at him, eyes bright with five-year-old wisdom. “It’s good for us.”</p><p>Cap couldn’t argue with her logic.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That's right, Cap; nothing wrong with having dessert for breakfast every now and again ;)</p><p>The old rabies 'cure' mentioned (thrusting a hot iron into the bite) really was something people used to do; special thanks to the article about Louis Pasteur (the guy who invented rabies shots) I read in a back-issue of a nature magazine for that fun tidbit.</p><p>Ta da! Thus endeth another fic. It really is one of my favorites, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Huge 'Thank You's' to everyone who read this fic and stayed with it to the end; I am honored that you felt my little tale was worth seeing through to its conclusion. Also huge 'Thank You's' to everyone who left a kudos and/or comment; words can't describe how great seeing them makes me feel and how motivating they are. Thank you all so, so much.</p><p>I do have more fics for this collection (multi-chapters and one-shots), but it may be a few weeks before I post another one. I have been posting a fic or fic-chapter to the Archive once or twice a week since early July and feel a small break is in order to recharge, hunt up inspiration, and work on finishing some of my WIPs. Until next time (cause there will be a next time; I'm having too much fun to stop)!</p><p>EDIT: I have uploaded a companion one-shot set after the events of this fic. If anyone's interested, you can find it <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257413/chapters/66590014">here</a>.</p>
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